


Sour Patch Kids

by likeelliottsmithsings



Category: 13 Reasons Why (TV)
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Adoption, Angst, Best Friends, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Forehead Kisses, Friendship, Friendship/Love, High School, Inspired by 13 Reasons Why (TV), M/M, Male Friendship, Physical Disability, Physical Therapy, Sleepy Kisses, Sour Patch Kids
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2019-06-26 08:38:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 34,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15659676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likeelliottsmithsings/pseuds/likeelliottsmithsings
Summary: I would forever keep an endless supply of sour patch kids - red ones, specifically - and find ways to kiss Alex Standall and mend the both of us in the process.-----------





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> By popular request, I've shimmied the Sour Patch Kids story from its home on Tumblr to this wonderful space! Hope you all will enjoy the ride and keep checking back for additional chapters to be posted. 
> 
> Feel free to come on over to my [Tumblr](https://likeelliottsmithsings.tumblr.com/) and say hi!

Every time I walk up the steps in the Standall’s home, I remember when Alex let me sleep on his floor.  I remember when he let me stay even after I had basically ruined Jessica’s life, destroyed my friendship with Bryce and became the sort of homeless waste I was destined to be.  I remember when he didn’t bring any of his usual sarcasm or sass that night, only a few comforting words and a silence full of understanding. I remember how feisty he used to be and how I wish we had all seen the signs earlier.  I remember the moment I found out that he tried to take his own life… And I remember promising myself that if I ever made it back, I’d try to be his friend. In the same way that he was to me.

Which was why, after a few difficult days of trying to figure out and explain what had happened at the dance with Jessica and I, I was sitting on the edge of his bed beside him in his room, playing video games in silence.  Except for the noise of the car engines on the screen and the occasional heavy breathing from Alex.

“Want to take a break?”  I asked, waving my controller a bit and pretending to stretch out my fingers as if they were stiff and tired from playing.  They weren’t. I was well seasoned in playing video games for hours upon hours.

“Want isn’t the word I would use,” was Alex’s frustrated response as his controller hit the floor.  He cursed, attempted to bend forward to get it, but realized soon after that he couldn’t do it. The look in his eyes, pure defeat, was hard for me to look at.  I had come to realize that Alex wore his emotions for everyone to see – we were all just too busy with our own shit to notice. He had good days and bad days. Usually there were more good days; his physical training with Zach had been helping, he was finally coming around to talking to Jessica again and for some reason, he hadn’t written me off completely.  But the bad days… He didn’t talk much and when he did, his words were slow and sometimes he stuttered. He couldn’t walk as far and he needed a lot more breaks. And some things he had been succeeding in days prior, really seemed to be too much for him to handle. Today seemed like one of those days. And after all Alex had done for me… I knew I had to help him, however I could.  I just needed to think of something…

“I got it,” I told him, fetching his remote and tossing it onto the bed behind us alongside mine.  And suddenly, I remembered. “I brought you something.”

“You give gifts now?” Alex asked and I swore I could hear a smile while he sat there stretching his good leg forward and moving his ankle round a bit.  I wondered silently if he was in pain. I wished for a moment that Zach was here because he always seemed to know what to do. Jessica was good with Alex, too.  Clay, Sherri, Tony… Even Ryan and Courtney. They had a lot more practice with being around him. When it was just he and I alone, when I had to be faced with the fact that I couldn’t see the signs and this kid – broken body and all – willed himself into saving my life when it physically seemed impossible… I knew I had to do _something._  While I was at it, I had to try and figure out the reasons behind my racing heart whenever something I did caused even the smallest smile on his face.  Or when he actually laughed – because that never seemed to happen anymore.

“Part time job and all,” I responded, mentally reminding myself to thank Clay for the hook up at the Crestmont.  “But also… I figured if we were going to have to choke down another kale smoothie, we should probably start off with something more artificial for an appetizer.”  And with that, I grabbed my backpack and dumped out an assortment of candy options on the bed. Alex’s face actually lit up. I mean really fucking lit up. “Just don’t tell your mom.  I know there’s some kind of family party happening down there and I actually like that your family likes me. And don’t get fucking sick,” I warned, already opening a bag of Reese’s Pieces for him.  He held his hand out and I poured a few into it so he could easily pop them into his mouth.

“Family party?” He questioned with a raised eyebrow, but then, like he suddenly remembered something he forgot, he nodded.  And I unintentionally frowned. “I’m not sure I was listening when she told me, that’s all.” He clarified, motioning with his hand for more candy.  Another handful of Reese’s Pieces.

“You’re alright though, right?  Like…” Alex was sensitive to the attention he got.  It had been obvious that everyone tiptoeing around on eggshells with him wasn’t what he needed.  Or maybe only obvious to me, since everyone else was still doing it. I don’t know, something about the way he looked when people were treating him the way he felt; broken.  I wasn’t about to do that to him. And I wasn’t necessarily very tactful in my approach to anything in life so... I couldn’t tiptoe on eggshells for shit. “You’re not in pain or anything? Because I’m not a mind reader, Standall.  If something is up you’re going to have to tell me or they won’t let me be in on Alex duty anymore.”

“Alex duty?” He repeated, a little annoyance in his tone but he settled down just as quickly as it had appeared.  “A little pain but I’m good. I wouldn’t tell them anyway. You’re the only one who doesn’t try to pick me up or stare at me until I break in half or some shit.”

“You’re not going to break.  They’re just protective of you.  Loving you and all that shit,” I shrugged and popped a handful of candy into my own mouth.  He frowned. I grinned at him and held out one piece of the brightly colored candy, holding it near his mouth for him to eat, “Do I have to feed you, too?” I teased.  But really, it was an excuse to look at his lips. They were always so pouty and intriguing. His smiles were small and soft but his laughter was so real, long and genuine when it happened.  Like he loved doing it and never knew when it was going to happen again. And his lips had this really perfect shape. They looked soft. They looked like they’d be nice to kiss.

He actually burst out laughing and I could feel my heart actually hitting my chest harder than ever before.  I had done something right. I had made him laugh. And even more so, I had plenty of ammo to continue doing so.  I leaned my hand a little closer and watched his lips part just enough for me to place the candy between them. He shook his head, still laughing afterwards. “Which one next?” I asked, setting down the Reese’s and diverting both of our attention to the candy selection.  Because never in my life had just barely touching someone’s lips with my fingertips made my heart practically take up residence in my throat. Especially not ever with a guy. Especially not Alex fucking Standall.

He chose the sour patch kids next, motioning to the bag with his good hand while he waited in silent anticipation for me to open it.  The expression ‘like a kid in a candy store’ hadn’t ever meant anything to me until I saw Alex Standall actually eyeing something he wasn’t supposed to have.  I mean those blue eyes were actually fucking twinkling and I was practically patting myself on the back for causing that sort of reaction from him. “Favorite color?” I asked, dumping a few into my hand and sorting them by color. When I glanced up at him, he wasn’t looking at the candy anymore.  He was looking at me. More specifically, he was staring at me. And although my heart had fully attempted to escape my chest for the second - or maybe third - time this evening, I was more concerned with his well being to ask him _why_ he was staring at me.  “Feel okay? Too much sugar? Shit, I’m sorry.”

 “Red,” came a second after I had apologized, a little forced and a little bit…  shy? My eyes scanned him over a few times, as if I could somehow see where the pain was and magically have all the right things to say or do.  But I wasn’t Zach, or Clay, or Jessica. I didn’t actually know what Alex needed or wanted other than the occasional sugar high. “I’m good, Jus.”

“Jus,” I didn’t mean to repeat it after he said it, but there was just something so comfortable about it that I couldn’t help it.  Most people said _Justin._ It usually always sounded like I was in trouble - which most times wasn’t far from the truth - and it didn’t ever sound quite as appealing as when Alex had shortened it and said it in a soft tone I hadn’t ever heard him use before.  “You have to promise, okay? Promise you’ll tell me what you need. I haven’t become a mind reader in the last five minutes.”

“I wish you did,” He responded casually and motioned again with his good hand towards the candy. He actually reached for a piece in my hand but I clenched my fist closed over it and pulled away.  He frowned and even went as far as to jolt out his bottom lip in a pout that was enough to make me all about set up a sugar filled I.V., if it made him smile again. “You’re providing me with a sugar high and something nice to look at, I don’t think I need anything else. Don’t withhold the good stuff.”

Did Alex Standall just say that _I_ was nice to look at or did I imagine that?  Because hell yes, after months of being in a jail cell and shrinking down to a fraction of my size - having my hair cut short and some bruises that just took their damn sweet time to fade, it was nice to hear that someone still thought I was something to look at.  Hell, it was fucking awesome to hear that Alex Standall thought I was something nice to look at. Because truth be told I was pretty certain he was going to hit me repeatedly with that cane for doing what I had done with Jessica. But closure, you know? And more truth being told - I had always thought that Alex was the most unique looking - the kid had the most killer dimples and blue eyes that made you actually wonder what the fuck that color was called.  Even the bleached hair and nose ring had intrigued me. When everyone else was calling him a fag and questioning how on earth girls gave him that much attention, I was totally understanding it. The kid was fucking beautiful. So for him to think I was nice to look at? Hell yeah, I’d take it. I’d take it, and own it, and love every fucking second of it.

“Coming right up,” I quickly picked a red sour patch kid from my hand and held it up towards his lips again.  This time he had to lean in just a little - which I thought was good, he needed to keep moving - and I tried to hold onto it so he actually bit it and tugged a little bit more to free his candy from my grasp.  I grinned proudly, “You know, I think you’re faking with this tonight. I think you’ve got a lot more energy than you’re letting on,” This time I held up another sour patch kid, towards his lips and immediately pulled it back a few inches when he leaned in.  He had to work for it. “Come on, a little more…”

“Jus, I can’t.” He said the words out loud, but those perfectly addictive determined eyes told me otherwise.  Bad day or not, Alex was a fighter. Selfishly, I wanted to be reminded of that; I needed to know he was always going to keep trying. He wasn’t ever going to think that leaving us was the answer.  Even more selfishly, I wanted to be able to brag about getting Alex to keep pushing himself to Zach. Suck it Dempsey. I bet Alex Standall doesn’t think you’re nice to look at. Or, at least… I hope he didn’t.  Did Standall even think about guys that way? I mean… It was a bit of a rumor when he first moved here, but nothing was ever clarified. Distracted by my thoughts of what Alex possibly thought about Zach, I had let him lean in a few inches more and actually take the candy from my hand with his mouth.  A satisfied look was on his face afterwards.

“Stop fucking saying you can’t,” I reminded him with a smirk, trying entirely way too hard to not stare directly at his lips again.  Which had my eyes attached to the way his dimples appear only when he was really, really smiling. And that seemed to be happening a lot right now.  “Or else I’m eating every last red sour patch kid right in front of you and you’ll be doomed to the yellow and green ones.” Empty threat, but it totally worked.  Alex was sitting up a bit more straight and shaking his head at me, “You wouldn’t dare. Who fucking likes the yellow ones anyway?”

“You’re about to have to if you don’t come get this next one,” red sour patch kid raised and Standall was moving quicker.  He was leaning in, bracing himself with his good hand on my knee and seeming steady. Unlike my breathing which had just increased by a thousand percent without my permission.  His bad day seemed to be a thing of the past. Now he was determined and happy, and thanks to my quick thinking, a mere inch or two away from my face. I had about two seconds to wonder what the fuck my body was doing setting itself on to flirting autopilot.  I hadn’t flirted in months.

I had pulled the candy back all the way over towards my face and Alex accepted the challenge.  He was pushing down on my leg to support himself, and I could see him working his good leg for balance, but he was doing it.  He was reaching forward to take the sour patch kid - with his teeth which was definitely the cause of my breathing increase - and in doing so, he had slid his hand a little further up my leg than anything I expected him to do.  And my body was definitely reacting without me telling it to. What the fuck?

“Are you a mind reader yet?” He questioned once he had finished the piece of candy in his mouth.  I was staring at his lips again. He had licked them free of the extra sugar that had landed on them and holy shit it was kind of incredible to watch.  Everything about him was incredible to watch. I totally understood what Jessica saw in him. He had gone from a seemingly bad day where his breathing was labored and his movements were slow to accepting a challenge and being determined to succeed at it.  And in doing so he had triggered something inside of me. A little jealousy, because I was still struggling to rise to challenges and not crave and easy solution, but mostly just curiosity. What was going through Alex’s mind? What did he want me to know?  And did he have any clue that despite my track record with the girls at our school… I had definitely given him a few long, _hard_ thoughts before.  And thanks to the placement of his hand and those perfect fucking lips…  I was giving him those type of thoughts again.

“Another piece of candy, please?” He asked additionally, all polite and sugar coated and pouty.  My heart was officially slamming around inside my chest. And all that staring he was doing was beginning to make me feel like he was doing this intentionally. “Not a yellow one,” he specified and I obliged by holding up a red one.  I could see the way he took an extra few seconds to work up to having to lean in again but he wasn’t telling me he couldn’t do it and he wasn’t even attempting to wave his cane and cry his way into a sugar fest. Nope, he was leaning in towards the raised piece of candy, a little shaky and less stable than the first couple of times, and he was giving his movements his all.

My free hand went to his waist instinctively, fingers gently wrapping around him in case he was going to need to be held up in place.  I could tell easily that this game was over after this round, even if we were both enjoying it. There would be plenty of candy for another time of teasing Alex Standall with sugary sour substances…  He had his limits these days and I didn’t want to push him too hard. But the way he questioned if I was a mind reader, the way he continued to lean in, to stare at me like he _wanted_ me to understand something…  It made this last round of could he or couldn’t he turn into a round of should _I_ or shouldn’t _I._  I had spent the evening thankful for my time with Alex, in awe of his progress and determination, and slightly infatuated with how beautiful he still was.  How beautiful he always had been. And now, again, and maybe for the last time this evening, his lips were as close to mine as he could physically bring himself to be.  Ignore the way my heart was looking for the nearest exit of my body, and the way Alex had his hand _so_ high up my leg for balance, I had to focus on the task at hand.  I wasn’t a mind reader, no, but I used to be fairly good at playing the flirting game. I used to always know when a girl was in to me by the way they’d look at me; like they _wanted_ me to look at them.  That was what Alex had been doing all night, I was beginning to be sure of it.  And he didn’t seem to mind one bit when he caught me staring at his lips. Despite not knowing if this was going to completely blow up in my face or not, I figured the worst thing that could happen was a serious beating with that stickered up cane of his - and I could out run that, easily.  So I pulled the candy away completely, waited only a fraction of a second to see if his body language would change at all, and kissed him.

The moment Alex fucking Standall kissed me back, everything that had still felt off in my life seemed to slowly slip away.  No more wondering what if something bad happens and the Jensen’s regret their choice in adopting me. No more wondering if I’d ever have the opportunity to fix things fully with Jessica. If we could ever even be friends?  No more wondering if it would ever be possible for me to kick this constant need to be high as fuck. It was just me, this broken but _trying_ version of me, and Alex, the broken and determined version of him.  It was two people who had gone through a lot both individually and together, and who somehow made it out alive.  Two people who probably should have thought this through a little further but through the last fuck they had to give out the window and went for it.  Two people who very well could stand the chance at actually just getting it. At actually just getting each other. And for the first time in months, I actually felt like I had done something right.

“You are a mind reader,” he said in a tone that was filled with curiosity and exhaustion.  He was trying to stay as close to me as he could - maybe fearful that once we parted this moment would be over and never spoken about again? But he was tired and I could tell he needed to lay down and give his body a break from over exerting itself.  So I just shrugged up my shoulders a little and tried to play it off like I didn’t want to just keep kissing him and be completely surrounded by the feeling of actually doing something fucking right. “I actually was preparing for you to hit me with your cane,” for emphasis I looked around to see where his weapon of choice might be. He laughed and shook his head at me, turning to look back towards the head of his bed and where his pillows were propped up. “I think it’d be more comfortable up there,” I said softly, not wanting him to feel like I was in any way babying him.  And hell, it’d probably be just as fun to kiss Alex Standall while half laying down in his bed.

“You were staring at me like you were going to kiss me for the last hour,” he noted while we worked together to get him comfortable against the pillows.  His sugar high made him a lot more blunt. Which is saying a lot because Alex Standall was always the first person to tell you how it fucking was right to your face anyway.  I couldn’t speak for a little while, wondering if this was going to have to be a moment where we discuss feelings or thoughts, or you know… Whether or not we were both into guys?  But he insisted on standing up and walking the few feet before sitting and swinging his legs up and my attention was fully on making sure he didn’t fall down and he wasn’t completely overworking himself.  Instead of using his cane for support, he swung his arm around my neck and we made it happen; slow and steady. When he was comfortable and the candy was hidden in my bag again, I shrugged and turned to look at him.  “I’ve thought about kissing you way before we were hauled up in your room playing video games and eating candy, Standall.”

“You should do it again,” all pouty and quiet and tired blue eyes.  How could I say no? Who would want to say no to that. Whether this was a one time thing or not, I wasn’t going to miss my chance at making him smile and making myself finally feel like I was worth a damn.  So I kissed him again. And again. And again after that. And wanted to keep kissing him but when I slid my hand up onto his neck to cup his face, I could feel his pulse against my hand and it was racing - probably from the kiss, but maybe from this being too much in one night.  And something told me this wasn’t going to be my only time hiding away, kissing Alex Standall in his bedroom when no one else was around. So I pulled back and just to make him laugh, I pressed a kiss to the very tip of his nose. The way he scrunched it and his eyes squinted and those God damn dimples…   More certainty that I was really doing things right tonight.

There was the same comfortable silence between us again after I had set up Alex’s television to play a movie and he had managed to get comfortable enough in bed.  He didn’t questioned the kisses or the reasons behind them, he never once asked me to explain why or what this meant, and he certainly didn’t seem to change the way he acted around me after it.  His breathing was steady, his eyes were nearly all the way closed and he seemed content. I knew that curfew at the Jensen’s was something I had to actually abide by, even though I wanted to stay here beside him where things felt good, all night.  So once the movie was about ten minutes in, and Alex was about ten seconds away from falling asleep, I slid free of the bed and grabbed my bag.

“Jus?”

My heart did that thing again.  It tried to fling itself against my ribcage until it was free and I was dead, there on the ground, because Alex Standall had said my name so fucking perfectly.  I was doomed to never get used to hearing it in that tone from those perfect lips. “Yeah?”

“One more?”

For a very brief moment I thought he meant the candy.  But then I realized he was reaching his good hand out for me, trying desperately for his fingers to graze mine but he was too tired to move enough to make it happen.  I stepped closer, let our fingers get caught up, and then leaned down towards him. Our lips met once more, soft but long and lingering. His eyes didn’t bother to open when we parted.  I made a mental note of what this looked like. Of what happiness actually fucking looked like. It was Alex Standall, freshly kissed, coming down from a sugar high, and completely fucking beautiful.

“So many more,” I said softly to him, promising an already asleep Alex and a totally wide awake and exhilarated me that there was no chance this was a one time thing.  I would forever keep an endless supply of sour patch kids - red ones, specifically - and find ways to kiss Alex Standall and mend the both of us in the process.


	2. Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Those god damn dimples were going to be the death of me.
> 
> \--------------------------------------------------

There was nothing I hated more than Monday mornings.  It meant fighting for the bathroom, trying to down a scolding hot mug of coffee and somehow willing the Prius into functioning at a speed over thirty miles per hour because go figure - we were late.  But there was nothing I hated more than a Monday morning filled with all of those things and the additional sudden realization that it had been about thirty six hours since I had been placed on Alex duty.  Thirty six hours since the sour patch kids kiss. Kisses. Whatever.

I had meant to text Alex on Sunday and probably would have if there wasn’t some court mandated therapy sessions that involve the basement of a church and a bunch of former junkies talking about their road to success.  Nothing like Jesus and some heroine regret at 8:30 on a Sunday morning. I mean... I’m all for giving props to people who managed to get clean and stay that way - or hope to stay that way - but is there a possibility of the whole circle of trust and understanding thing not occuring in a holy Jesus basement hell on my one of two days off from school?  Cut a guy a fucking break. I want to sleep in, eat pancakes with the Jensen’s and text the boy with the piercing blue eyes and sarcasm oozing from every inch of him, not hug strangers and talk about how I don’t _want_ to use anymore.  Plus there’s that whole part about them being recovering and me being somewhere between wanting to get high as fuck every single day and knowing that I can’t fuck up this second chance.  Clean-ish. That’s how I’d describe it. Good days and bad days. Some bad days days require a Clay Jensen punch to the gut and an endlessly long lecture about staying clean and a other days I’m totally fine with cruising through life without a high.  Like the day I got to kiss Alex Standall. I was totally fine without a high on the day I got to kiss Alex Standall. Plus, I’m pretty sure I got contact sugar high which worked just as well. Maybe better.

Needless to say, being late to school the Monday after the kiss and my piss poor mood that had me forgetting to text him wasn’t exactly the start to the week I wanted.  If I knew anything about Alex it was that there was no way he wasn’t over analyzing the lack of communication on my part and probably going into some weird self doubt spiral that had him questioning his awesomeness.  So when Clay and I were practically running down the hallway, skipping our locker stop to grab first period books and parting ways to get to homeroom on time, my only option was to get some kind of update on Alex from his new pseudo physical trainer and overly available best friend. “Sup Dempsey?”

He was flipping pages back and forth in a text book as if he was reading the same few paragraphs over and over.  Knowing Zach, he probably was. Some bull shit study technique his mom probably googled on the internet so her prize son could get the prize grades, too.  He barely glanced at me when he responded, “Did you study for the history test?”

Nope, I definitely didn’t study for the history test.  Friday night was pizza and movie night with my newly acquired family, dodging text messages from Jessica that was her attempt at maintaining our friendship and pretending it wasn’t weird as fuck to be part of the Jensen clan now.  Saturday was spent attempting to destroy every high score Clay had on every Xbox game possible because I’m fairly positive that’s what brothers are supposed to do? And then there was the duty of keeping Alex company and making sure he didn’t fall over somewhere and have no ability to get himself back up.  Which resulted in getting to finally act on the deeply buried down somewhere inside of me desire to kiss the shit out of those perfect lips. Saturday was fucking awesome. And then Sunday was Jesus filled nonsense about not sharing needles and calling a buddy if you feel like you want to use again, and afterwards I was so fucking wiped I just couldn’t deal…   So I definitely didn’t study. “No.”

“I need to at least get a B,” he mumbled, rubbing his hands over his face before turning to look at me finally.  He did actually look exhausted. And I was done with being the dick that had everyone watching out for him and couldn’t actually look out for my friends in response.  If Zach and I were even still friends. I mean, I’m pretty sure we were. After the big sappy dance floor group hug that I conveniently missed and the following weeks of everyone suddenly becoming some motley crew of misfits, I think we were all friends.  So I put on my best ‘I’m here for you’ face and reached for his textbook, “Want me to quiz you?”

I’ll pretend his shock didn’t actually come across as fully insulting and just move on to scanning the page for any weird facts I could turn into questions. After about a dozen questions I pulled out of my ass relating to the last four chapters we were assigned in history, I slid in a question about Alex.  “Is Standall here today?” Maybe I tried too hard to make it look nonchalant by flipping through pages but basically staring at Zach’s face for any sign of a ‘you fucked up,’ facial expression. Instead he was just raising both eyebrows at me and tapping the textbook with his pen. “He’s here, yeah. Why?”

“Just curious,” I pulled out another question from the textbook and watched him squirm a bit while attempting to think of the correct answer.  He didn’t quite get it. And I wasn’t quite satisfied with only knowing that Alex was in school. I needed to know how he was. I needed to know if he was thinking about Saturday night.  Or if he had written me off completely because I was one of those stereotypical dick’s that didn’t call. “Close. How’s he doing?”

“His dad dropped him this morning because my mom had this disgusting theory about beet smoothies making test taking easier,” He rolled his eyes and looked up at me - expecting the date, I assumed.  So I told him the correct answer. He still stared. “What’s with the sudden interest in Alex?”

As much as I was trying to be the good-friend-less-asshole version of myself, I immediately got defensive at that question.  Because my twisted mind turned that question into a ‘what’re you into Alex?’ and I was not about to deal with that in the middle of homeroom.  “What the fuck? I thought we were all group hugs and fucking saving each other from every bull shit situation we end up in? Do I have to have a reason for checking in on the kid who can barely fucking walk?”

And then he started laughing at me.  I slammed the textbook shut and pushed it back over in his direction.  So much for fucking being nice. “Study alone, dick.”

“He’s got english first period.  Upstairs with Mr. Thompson.”

I narrowed my eyes in Zach’s direction one last time for emphasis because fuck that fucking know-it-all remark and the god damn smile on his face.  Zach Dempsey was a pain in my ass with his memorization of Alex’s schedule and his physical training with him after school and the way he was staring at me like he fucking knew something I didn’t know.  Fuck him. He could fuck right off.

When the bell rang for homeroom to end and the dash to first period to begin, I was still sitting and steaming about how fucking stupid it was for me to attempt to be nice and buddy-buddy with people who were just going to question my methods.  Or, worse, throw their even better methods of friendship directly in my face for knowing _everything_ about Alex Standall’s current situation when I was still playing fucking catch up.  So I hadn’t realized it was time to move until Zach nudged my shoulder while he was standing over my desk.  “If you’re going to help him up those stairs, you’re going to need to go now. Or like thirty seconds ago. Because he’ll try to do it alone and if he falls down, I’ll punch you in the face.”

Wait, what? Fuck.  Alex was going to be attempting to get up the fucking stairs on his fucking own because I’m a fucking idiot who didn’t put two and two together and realize Zach was doing me a solid?  Because I’m an asshole who immediately thinks people are out to get me, not help me. And because I am too stuck in my own dickbag ways of acting like I just don’t give a fuck about anything to question things when they’re brought to my attention.  Like first period class schedules for Alex Standall.

I cursed under my breath and managed to get to my locker, grab my first period text book and run - actually fucking run - through the hallway and to the stairwell that would bring Alex closest to his english class.  And of course there he was - about halfway up the first set of stairs, clutching his cane, attempting to shoulder his bag and seemingly out of breath. I wondered, momentarily, if Zach normally walked him to class and I had now successfully made Alex think I wasn’t interested in him and that Zach had forgotten about him.  But I didn’t have enough time to think about it because he was taking another step up and I was almost positive that the weight of his backpack was working against him so much that he was about to fall. And besides him getting totally fucking hurt, I also wanted to avoid getting punched in the face by Zach - something told me he was serious about that threat.  “Standall, wait up!” I called for him and noticed that his attention had gone from attempting to take the next step alone, to stopping and steadying himself enough to turn to look at me. He furrowed his eyebrows in my direction and then attempted to move out of the way of everyone trying to get to class on time. I took the stairs two at a time so I could be beside him as quick as possible.  Because being beside him meant that I got to remember once again what it was like to kiss him. And it meant that I was going to walk him to class and hope to hell we didn’t both go tumbling down the stairs if he became unbalanced. I was easily distracted when it came to that fucking face of his.

“I’ve got it,” he said in that determined and annoyed Alex voice that usually pushes every button I had.  But not today. Not after I saw how easily he went from angry at the world to flush faced and thoroughly kissed in no time flat.  I shrugged and just stood beside him, on his bad side without making it too obvious I was there to help him, and just waited. He took another two steps and then glanced at me. “You can go to class, I don’t need a babysitter.  You’re off ‘Alex duty,’ or whatever the fuck you called it.”

“I call it walking with my friend to class,” I said with a little laugh and a full blown promise to myself that I would not get pissed at Alex for using my own words against me.  “Did you study for that history test?” I didn’t actually give a fuck if he studied for the history test. I just needed more time to gauge how high I was on the Alex Standall shitlist and the tone of his voice was going to tell me that.  So my main mission was to keep him talking to me. Well, second mission. First mission was to get him up the fucking stairs without making it look like I was taking pity on him - but I was maybe a little. Couldn’t they let him leave five minutes before homeroom ended to get up the stairs when there wasn’t a bunch of assholes darting around him and sighing at the traffic hold up in the staircase? For fuck’s sake.

“Yeah,” He swayed a bit and I immediately put my hand on his arm to keep him steady.  He didn’t grumble about it, so I left it there and turned to look forward. Maybe if I wasn’t staring at him, he would accept that this wasn’t pity and was in fact my really fucked up way of showing the kid that I wanted to kiss his face at least a hundred more times.  And that was only in reference to today. “I had a lot of free time on Sunday.”

There was something in his voice that I hated.  Some doubt, some insecurity, some… something and I knew that I caused it by not calling him after Saturday night.  Because I, Justin fucking Foley, am an idiot who really should have not let Jesus loving former junkies put me into a shit headspace and not pick up my phone.  It had clearly done _something_ to him.  I just wasn’t sure what.  “Shit, I totally spaced on it.” I said quickly and tried to somehow slide in the reason I hadn’t text or called him without making it too obvious.  “I had this fucking meeting that they held in the basement of a church. It’s like a support thing or some shit.” I was met with a confused set of painfully striking blue eyes and I wanted to ramble for fucking ever if it meant he’d believe me.    But all I could come up with was, “You know, for people like me.”

“People like you?”  He asked between slightly labored breaths and a successful stop at the landing between stair cases.  I tightened my hold on his arm and hovered a little in front of him when a crowd of people nearly swallowed me up and pulled me away from him.  He let go of his cane for a moment and reached for me - guiding me to be fully in front of him while he leaned against the wall. Human shield? Maybe.  Or selfishly, I was hoping he just wanted to look at me.

“Junkies.  Or former junkies.  You know,” I motioned to myself with my free hand as best I could.  There wasn’t a whole lot of space between me and him and I didn’t intend on putting any more between us.

“I don’t like that word for you,” he said sternly and motioned his head towards the staircase, silently urging me to continue.  “It’s not true. At least not fully. It’s not how I would describe you.”

“No?”  It was getting closer to the bell ringing for first period, I could tell.  The stairwell was nearly empty and there was barely any sounds of lockers slamming from the hallway upstairs anymore.  Being alone… Or alone-ish with Alex made it easier to remember how effortless I had begun to flirt with him in his bedroom.  How real and genuine it was because I hadn’t planned to do it - it just happened. And how real and genuine that fucking smile of his was.  Dimples and all. Alone in the stairwell, I wondered if I could bring that out in him again. Or if he’d even let me try. “How would you describe me then?”

One shoulder raised up into a shrug as we continued up the stairs slowly.  The fact that I was going to be fucking late for math didn’t bother me one bit because Alex Standall was still in fact talking to me.  Not only was he talking to me, he was giving me a lot less shit than he normally would and he was maybe leaning into me a little bit more than he’d ever want anyone to notice - all of which made my heart recall it’s escape method and attempt it again.  It was beating like fucking crazy against my ribcage. And when he spoke? Holy shit I was pretty sure it was going to fly directly out of my chest and into his hand and beg him to just take it - keep it - and do whatever the fuck he wanted to with it.

“I’d say lost but I don’t think that’s it anymore.  I think you’ve found yourself and the people you’re supposed to have in your life.  I think you’re happy you’ve been found, too. So now I think you’re maybe just… Learning what’s going to work for you.”  He paused, one step before we reached the top. He was leaning against the railing with his back. Somehow he had turned to face me while he was explaining.  Somehow he had pushed past the difficulty to get up the stairs and the fact that he was probably mad at me for kissing and ditching, but… He put effort into what he was saying to me.  I could tell because he stuttered on a few of the words which meant the process of speaking it and actually _feeling_ it was a lot for him.  It was a lot for me too.  “What you’ve done, what you may slip up and do again while you’re trying to figure shit out…  It doesn’t define you, Justin.” And because maybe my eyes were watering a little bit at how much I just needed to hear those words from those lips, he added with a little bit of a small smile, “You’re still a dick though, so don’t worry about it.”

“Thanks, Standall.” I motioned my head to the door to the stairwell - just one more step up and we’d be in the hallway that housed his english class.  Just one more step up and this little stairwell moment was as good as gone. “You good?”

“Could you help?” He asked and the tone of his voice did a total number on my heart rate and my raging teenage hormones.  It was the same tone of voice he used when he had told me Saturday night he wished I was a mind reader. The same tone he used to say ‘Jus,’ when he spoke to me.  The same tone of voice that made it nearly fucking impossible not to kiss him right then and there in the stairwell despite who may or may not see us. I couldn’t trust my voice - my good with the ladies skills were nowhere to be found when it came to being good with Alex Standall, and I basically had no idea what to do other than to put one hand on the small of his back beneath his backpack and use my other to hold both my textbook and his arm. “I’ve got you.”  I promised in a whisper because holyfuckingshit I had never wanted him to stop wanting me to hold onto him again. “You okay?”

He turned to face me and that smug ‘you’re an idiot,’ look he usually gave me was back and maybe it wasn’t pushing my buttons but it was definitely doing _something._   Now it was just alongside softer eyes and slightly parted, perfect lips.  I wasn’t sure if he wanted to say something or if he was actually too tired to talk, but whatever it was I carefully moved my hand from his back to the side of his neck and looked over his face once more.  His eyes flicked down to my lips and I knew that in that moment he had forgiven me for not calling or texting him on Saturday and had been thinking about it just as much as I was. No verbal confirmation required.  The way he was leaning in towards me said everything. Was I prepared to kiss Alex Standall in the hallway of school? Did I think this was ever in a million fucking years going to be the way I spent a Monday at Liberty? Probably not was a good answer to both of those things but I was fully about to throw caution to the wind and crush my lips against his when the first period bell rang - and echoed like fucking crazy in the stairwell - and we both jumped back from each other.

I tilted my head back and stared up at the ceiling for just a moment, cursing bull shit five minute hallway time between classes and the way Alex started laughing. “Shut the fuck up, Alex.” I grinned as he started towards the doors to the hallway.  I tried my best to hold onto his arm, then his hand, until our fingers slipped away from each others and he was too far for me to touch. Yeah, definitely wasn’t a fan of that feeling at all. “I’ll get you after class?”

“I’ll be fine,” he noted, turning his back towards me and heading down the hall a bit.  I, like a fucking lost puppy, stood there and watched him. At least until he stopped and glanced back over his shoulder, “Jus?”

Fuck you Alex Standall and the way you use your tone of voice against me.  “Yeah?”

“I wanted you to.”   Yep, there it went. My heart actually exploded inside my chest at just the idea of what those words could have possibly meant.  He wanted me to what? Text him? Call him? Kiss him again? Kiss him a hundred more times like my brain was telling me to do?

“Wanted me to what, Lex?” I questioned, frozen in place on the stairs still, watching as he continued to walk down the hallway towards his classroom.  One last glance in my direction filled with full blown dimples and real, genuine Alex fucking Standall laughter was the answer I was given. And holy fuck, whether that tortured me for the rest of my day or not I was totally fucking happy to live with it.  Those god damn dimples were going to be the death of me. Slow, painful and totally fucking worth it.


	3. Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So I didn’t give a flying fuck when everyone looked at me like I was out of my mind crazy as I responded truthfully. “I’ll be with him.”
> 
> \-----------------------------------------------------

The weird thing about now being in this lovey-dovey, ride or die group of friends is that I have to constantly be sitting across from my ex girlfriend at tables that are definitely only designated for two or  three people and we somehow manage to cram somewhere between seven to nine of us around it at a time. It’s just a bunch of squished elbows and knees definitely pressing up against each other but it’s Hannah’s table and we’re never leaving it.  The other weird thing about being in this lovey-dovey, ride or die group of friends is that I have no idea how I’m supposed to handle any of the signals Alex Standall is throwing my way and I have to figure it out in front of everyone. 

It started with Clay and I joining Zach and Alex after school.  Thanks to Zach strategically texting me  _ and _ Clay that he needed help getting Alex to physical training because the boy was stubborn as fuck, it wasn’t weird for both of us to go to Monet’s.  Zach’s text easily prompted a ‘no shit,’ from me, because I was uncertain as to why anyone expected Alex fucking Standall to ever be easily persuaded to do much of anything these days and a sympathetic ‘we’re on our way,’ from Clay because he wanted to save everyone at all times. In his Prius.  Because of course Clay Jensen, superhero to all broken souls drove a fucking Prius at exactly the speed limit while trying to out-loud think of ways to convince Alex to get into the damn pool and get better.

“Maybe we could get Jess to go.  I think Alex would still do anything for her.”  As soon as that light bulb went off in his brain he was grabbing his phone to somehow manage to text Jessica and maintain his speed of exactly 26 miles per hour in the neighborhood because one mile per hour over the speed limit was about as badass as Clay Jensen got.  “Dude, hands on the wheel.” I swatted his phone down and motioned to the steering wheel. Mainly because I was already trying to think of my own ways to get Alex into the pool and none of them involved our ex-girlfriend persuading him by wrapping her fingers around his heart and toying with it.  He didn’t need that anymore. I wasn’t going to have a part in that  _ again.   _ Fuck that.  Plus… Fuck you Clay, why does it have to be a girl? Not everyone wants to go diving into a fucking pool for a girl.

A few whiny Clay Jensen remarks later, we were sitting at the table made for three watching Alex suck down something that looked like pure sugar topped with sugar with a dash of more sugar. “I’m good.”

“Except not,” Zach argued, attempting to pull the mug of sickeningly sweet whateverthefuck away from Alex’s hands so he’d focus.  He was met with a pretty good kick from Alex’s good leg and the death glare from hell. “Clearly you’re in a mood.”

“Clearly you’re in a fucking mood,” Alex mimicked, holding the mug close to him so Zach wouldn’t take it again.  He was doing his damnedest not to look in my direction. It was obvious. He had given Clay a nod hello and had already shot him down when he offered to get into the pool alongside him.  Me? Not even a hello. I was sitting right next to him and he didn’t even glance in my direction. Which would have irritated the old Justin a whole fucking lot. I would have been a total dick about it.  But there was just something about him today that had me not giving a shit about how he was treating me and only giving a shit about how he was treating himself. Good days and bad days, I remembered. Today seemed to have started as a good day and turned to a rapidly declining bad day.  And a bad day Alex was not good to himself. And I definitely wasn’t going to let there be a step backward in his progress.

“Lex?” I questioned and was met with a curious look from Clay and a wide-eyed stare from Zach.  And absolutely nothing from Alex. No piercing blue eyes. No snide remark. Just blatantly ignored. Not fucking okay.  “Hey,” I nudged his knee with mine. Because small table meant small amount of space and I definitely wasn’t mad about it.  I could basically feel the warmth radiating off of him. “I’m talking to you.” I added and finally got a reaction. An eye roll.  “What, Justin?”

I didn’t even realize I flinched until everyone was staring at me again.  Everyone being Zach, Clay, and now Tony and his boyfriend Caleb who had pulled over seats and made us all adjust our chairs to fit them.  All of us except Alex and I. Alex wasn’t budging and I was too busy being hurt by his usage of the ‘tin’ part of my name to give a fuck about them. “Standall, for fuck’s sake.”

“Not today, Foley.” He responded dryly, finishing off his sugar coma drink and practically slamming the mug down onto the table.  

I couldn’t even react the way I wanted to.  I wanted to grab his good hand, and maybe his bad hand too.  I wanted to turn him towards me and force him to look at me, to listen to me tell him a dozen different ways that this was just a shit day and he didn’t need to get stuck in the piss-poor headspace.  I wanted to put my hand on his neck, the way I had earlier in the staircase at school when no one was around. I wanted to feel his fingers in my hair again. I wanted to grab his face and kiss the fucking shit out of him until he smiled and laughed and those damn dimples were basically permanently there on his face.   And by the time I had worked up to finding something to actually respond with, someone else was taking my spotlight.

“You’re in a mood.”  Jessica. Of course.

“They called you too?” He asked in a tone that was obviously designated for her.  It wasn’t the same tone he had said my name in earlier in the day - it wasn’t the same kiss-me-right-now tone he had used with me the night before.  It was just quiet and careful. Like he didn’t quite know where he stood with her and he wasn’t willing to find out in this exact moment. Or maybe like she’d break into a million tiny pieces if one of us set her off.  That last part was likely true. Which was why I kept my mouth fucking shut when she was talking to him. I did not need to get caught up in the Jessica-Alex-Justin love triangle again. No fucking chance. So I sank back into my chair and decided to let everyone else give it their best shot.  Of course Jessica went first. Like she owed it to him for breaking his heart. And maybe she did. But she didn’t have a fucking clue how to talk to him when he was in a mood like this. She went about it all wrong. “What’s wrong with you today Alex? It’s an hour in the pool with Zach. He doesn’t  _ have _ to do this, you know? He’s trying to help you but you have to help yourself.”

I watched his good hand ball into a fist on his lap and his eyes immediately dart down to the empty glass on the table.  He was debating grabbing his cane and getting up, definitely. But he wasn’t stupid and he knew there’d be at least four sets of hands trying to pull him back down to our overpopulated table and he had zero chance of fighting them off.  So he just stayed quiet, death glaring at the lack of whipped cream and sympathy from our circle of misfit toys.

“Alex?” Clay was about to go into one of those ‘you matter’ rambles and I could tell that this was fully not the fucking time.  Alex tensed. And that was enough for me. He was getting more uncomfortable by the minute and I wasn’t here for that. I was here to  _ help _ him, not make it worse.  So I slid my hand carefully onto his good elbow and gave it a tug as I stood up from my seat.  I was pulling him to stand up with me and he was reluctant at first but eventually I could feel him go a bit more lax in my grip.  “Come on.”

I knew I had done the right thing when there was no question or complaint from Alex as he walked beside me, hand on his cane, steps slow but seemingly steady.  We were outside of Monet’s in no time with just a quick glance back for me to give Zach some kind of eyes-only message that hopefully came across like I had everything under control and would get Alex in the damn pool. “I need to sit down.” He told me about half a block away from the coffee shop, full of defeat and fully in recognizable pain.

“Here,” I helped him over to the curb, holding onto both of his hands while he lowered himself down to sit.  I made sure he was steady and set his cane beside him before allowing myself to leave zero space between me and his good side when I sat down too. “Now talk to me.”

“About what?”

“This,” I motioned my hand along the front of him, referring to him - his mood, his attitude, his pain.  “This morning you were…” I trailed off, dropping my hand to rest on his knee for a second. Just a second.  Then it was back in my lap and I was turning to face him fully so I could see what I was working with here. “You know, in the stairwell.  And now you’re barely looking at me.” He opened his mouth to argue. I could tell by the way his eyebrows twisted and that Alex Standall against the world sort of clenched jaw and fire in his eyes look was back in full force.  So I had to quickly keep going despite trying to play the fact that I wanted to skip first period and make out with him on the staircase as cool as I could. “Not that this is about me. But I’m just using that as an example. You were up here,” I held my hand up high, above our heads, “And now you’re down here.”  And then just an inch or two above the pavement. “So tell me where things started to go down and we’ll go from there?”

Not my finest verbal moment thank you heroine fried brain cells and poor english grades, but it got the message across. I might not have been able to explain it well but he definitely knew that I was just trying to be there for him.  To get to the bottom of this. To help him. Plus if anyone knew I wasn’t as great with my words it was Alex. “Everything hurts,” he said softly, tilting his head back to look up at the sky. “Sitting out in gym class, needing help up the sta-..”

“You didn’t need my help.  I didn’t do anything. You got up those stairs on your own,” I reminded.  He shook his head. But it was the truth. I had barely helped him. “My leg has been hurting ever since.  I was having trouble reading my paper out loud in english. After you had made me feel… Well, whatever it was.  I got into class and couldn’t get the words to come out right when it was my turn to read.” He sighed. His eyes were closed now.  Everything about him seemed much smaller than usual. Maybe a little fearful. A whole lot of discouraged. “Just a bad day, Jus.”

My heart clenched the moment he said my name.  He was open and honest and admitting defeat even though that was probably so fucking hard for him.  And he was doing it with me. I didn’t have to do much persuading to get him to talk. And when he finished, he was using that tone he reserved for just me.  My red sour patch kid loving Alex was in there somewhere, trying to come out. Hanging on by a thread it seemed. He just needed someone to go in there and get him.  And at this point I’d walk straight into the depths of hell if it meant he’d feel better and continue to say my name that way. Even if the depths of hell were very well the Liberty High outdoor pool and involving Zach Dempsey and his god damn physical training.

“You’re the strongest person I know, Lex,” again, he wanted to argue and I stopped him.  “And bad days happen. Hell, there’s been more days I’ve wanted to scrape up some money and get whatever type of high I could afford than not.  Trust me when I tell you I know what it’s like to have a bad day. But you know what?” I chewed on my bottom lip a moment, letting him soak in everything I was saying and hopefully understand that I could fully relate.  He wasn’t alone. He never would be. “Clay helps. Zach helps. Fuck, even Tony and Jessica help.  _ You _ help.  You help me so fucking much. Knowing that there’s people who are rooting for me?  That fucking helps. So giving up is kind of like your heroine. Every time you have a bad day, you want to give up.  You want to be the kid with the cane that needs help because he’s broken. But that’s not who you are. You’re a fighter.  You’re the kid who walked into a fucking fight and slammed his cane against Monty’s back so hard I’m pretty sure he saw stars,” I put my hand back on his knee - the good one - and gave it a squeeze.  “You’re the kid who shows up for everyone. At the court cases when they were going on. At school dances when I know you were freaking out about being able to stand up for that long. You’re the kid who talks to the kids who need to be talked to, like Tyler or now Cyrus.  You’re the kid who doesn’t look at me like I’m a fucking wreck. Even when you literally had to save my life because I’m an actual fucking wreck. You’re the one who did everything you could to help Jessica. You’re so fucking good, Alex.”

“Stop,” He said softly, placing his good hand on top of mine.  “Trying to be good doesn’t make me any less broken.”

I flipped my hand over beneath his so we were palm to palm.  Both of our eyes were on our hands. Both of us were waiting for the other to make some sort of move. When he didn’t budge after a minute or so of silence, I started to lace our fingers together, trying to ignore how much it should have felt fucking weird to be so openly affectionate with the broken boy and his heart of gold. But… It didn’t feel weird at all.  In fact, it was the most right I had felt in a long time. Sitting there, trying to convince the boy with the broken spirit that everything would eventually be okay because he was strong? It felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be. With exactly who I was supposed to be with. “You’re not broken. You’re mending.”

“I want to mend faster,” he responded and the squeeze he gave to my hand was a little pathetic, even for him.  Today was taking a lot out of him.

“Then you’re going to have to go to physical training and stare at Zach Dempsey in his swim trunks daily,” I tried to make him laugh, nudging his shoulder and playfully winking at him when he looked in my direction.  But he shook his head and pressed his lips together like he was definitely holding something back. And I absolutely hated the way he hid those lips from my view. They were one of his best features. And how was I supposed to get lost in thinking about kissing him over and over again if he was hiding them from me? “Zach doesn’t do it for you?”

“Not my favorite from the basketball team,” he responded all soft tone and zero sarcasm - aka the actual death of me.  My heart was basically in my throat at his somewhat admittance to having a thing for someone other than Zach Dempsey on the basketball team.  Which, without getting too far ahead of myself, was safe to say he was referring to me. But just to be safe, and to maybe help my ego a bit, I asked anyway.  “Who is your favorite then?”

“Fuck you, Foley.” He laughed the most perfect Alex Standall laugh.  Dimples and all. Go team Justin fucking Foley for doing another thing right today.  Being the good guy wasn’t so bad after all. It left me with perfect smiles and elated laughter and I was so fucking down for that.  Even if it was only for a few moments before we were very much so interrupted by Zach clearing his throat from behind us. He had this knowing look on his face.   Similar to the way he looked at me in class earlier in the day. And he didn’t even say a word about how much he should have thought it was really fucking weird that the two of us were sitting on the curb holding hands.  He didn’t even acknowledge it. “Everyone else is coming. What’re we doing?”

“Going to the pool,” Alex responded half-heartedly.  He didn’t  _ want _ to but he knew he needed to.  “Justin’s coming with us.”

Even if I wanted to protest, I couldn’t. Those pleading eyes and those fucking lips.  I was going anywhere he wanted me to go. And he knew it. I was already on my feet, using our hand-holding to look like I was just helping him up when Clay, Tony, Caleb and Jessica arrived behind us on the sidewalk.  “We’re all coming with you.”

“Because that’s not embarrassing,” Alex mumbled once he was standing up.  He was looking at only me still, not bothering to turn around and face our friends and acknowledge their presence at all.  Like he wanted me to do something about the ten eyes all staring directly at us. We’re talking burning a hole in the back of Alex’s head, staring at us.  My lack of quick wit and my desire to make him as happy as humanly possible had me scraping the barrel for possible ways to get everyone to distance themselves from him a bit.  I probably sounded like an idiot, but what the fuck ever. Making him laugh because I’m an idiot was a hundred times better than the negative headspace Alex had started this Monet’s trip in.   “Jessica just wants to get some sun and Tony and Caleb will be too busy trying to outswim each other or some shit. We’ll have to make sure Clay doesn’t drown,” I flashed a grin in my makeshift brother’s direction and he flipped me off.  “Zach knows what he’s doing.”

“And what will you be doing, mister know it all?” Jessica questioned, opening the wrapper to a lollipop.  It was red. And when Alex saw it, that kid in a candy shop sort of look reappeared. I immediately remembered making sure that I had loaded up my bag with Sour Patch kids in case I was going to have to bribe Alex Standall into kissing me again.  Or bribe him into a better mood. Or all of the above. I wasn’t beyond bribing those perfectly pouty lips to be up against mine for as long as humanly possible. Bonus for the added sugary-sweet taste that the candy left over on his mouth.

So when I freed a mini pack of candy from my pocket and tore it open with my teeth, it wasn’t really a surprise to see him staring at my mouth.  By the time I was pouring a few out in my hand and separating them by color to offer him only the red ones, we were both grinning. We were both totally not giving a shit about who was staring at us or where we were in that exact moment.  We were just briefly transported back to his bedroom Saturday night when everything was fucking perfect. When everything felt easy and fun and like there was a solid possibility that two totally fucked up people could be exactly what each other needed.  When everything just happened without us having to figure out all the difficult shit… we didn’t have to think about the fact that up until now we were both probably under the assumption that the other was straight. Hell, I was still partially confused about what the fuck this Alex Standall attraction actually was for me.  And we didn’t have to acknowledge that whole having the same ex-girlfriend who still sometimes tossed around heart eyes in both of our direction thing either. None of that shit mattered. It was just a momentary pause in the hell hole of a life we’ve created for ourselves here. I loved that pause. I loved that Saturday night feeling.  I loved that Saturday night feeling as it was happening again, right here, right now, outside of Monet’s in front of all of our friends.

So I didn’t give a flying fuck when everyone looked at me like I was out of my mind crazy as I responded truthfully.  “I’ll be with him.”


	4. Part Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And just like that…. Our already fucked up lives got a hell of a lot more fucked up. But like… The good kind of fucked up. If there was such a thing. 
> 
> \----------------------------------------------------

The pool wasn’t cold. In fact, it was actually really fucking awesome to get into the water when it was sunny and warm outside. Despite feeling a little bit weird about being shirtless and scrawny in front of Jessica  _ and _ Alex.   She had seen me in way less but I had looked way better.  A lot less holyhellyouneedasandwhich and a lot more holyhelltakeallyourclothesoff if I do say so myself.   But here I am. Standing somewhere between the the edge of the pool where Jessica was perched with her feet in the water and Clay was reapplying his third layer of sunscreen - because  _ better safe than sunburn _ , a direct Mrs. Jensen quote if I ever heard one - and where Alex was struggling to maintain upright and sturdy on that bike that was inside the water.  

For a few moments everything felt kind of normal.  Jessica and Clay were talking about some english class project and sitting on chair outside the water was Tony and Caleb who were being the anti-social couple goals we all wished we could be.  Who wouldn’t kill for quiet inside jokes and hand holding with someone who just fucking gets it? And even better, they get it and they’re in it for the long haul - drama or not, dysfunction or not.  But then Zach was calling out these instructions to Alex -  _ pedal for a minute straight, keep your arms tight  _ \- and normal seemed to be fucking awful.  Because this was  _ normal _ for Alex.  Struggling to do something like sit on a bicycle in water.  And like… water makes you a bit fucking lighter, doesn’t it?  So this should be easier than his everyday struggle of walking and making it up the steps in school, shouldn’t it? It wasn’t.

I had to stop myself multiple times from swimming over and pulling Alex off the bike and into a hug because he looked like he really fucking needed it.  He wasn’t complaining. He wasn’t spitting venom like he always used to. There was nothing sassy and aggressive about this Alex Standall. Just a tiny bit of determination hidden behind a whole lot of silence and pain.  Which fucking sucked. Sassy as shit Alex Standall and his high and mighty behavior was some of my favorite last year - even if I didn’t know it at the time. Anything was better than having to watch him struggle.

“Do you think he’ll get any better?” I could hear Jessica question Clay.  It had me frozen in place. Which meant no hug from the adorable - also interestingly enough shirtless and kind of really fucking nice to look at - Alex Standall.   It meant having to listen to the people who have seen him longer than me discuss the potential of him being like this  _ forever. _  “I mean he seems like he can stand up longer.  And he doesn’t let Zach carry his backpack anymore.  But do you think he’ll ever not need the cane? Do you think he’ll improve beyond this?”

That’s the thing about Jessica.  She means well. She really does.  And I actually think a part of me still loves her like I’ll never love anyone else.  But she has poor timing sometimes. Maybe most times. And her intentions sometimes get lost in the delivery.  Like maybe when she just needed closure from our fucking shitshow of a relationship and decided that being with me while also dating Alex seemed like a good idea.  Granted, I could have also stopped that and I’m a total dick for not doing so… But this was another one of those good intentions, poor timing moments. Alex wasn’t far enough away that he couldn’t tell they were talking about him.  Of course he could. “I think we just can’t let him stop trying,” was Clay’s diplomatic answer.

I slammed my hand down into the water and caused a splash large enough to get the attention of everyone except Alex.  It was so fucking stupid that this was the normal behavior for all of us now. Trying to coax our friend into just fucking surviving.  Trying to figure out if it’ll ever stop making us feel bad for letting him get to this point. Because that’s what it was, you know? Guilt.  Jessica knew Alex the best out of everyone and she didn’t see the signs. Granted she was going through fucking hell. But she still missed them.  We all did. We all missed each other’s signs. And none of that was fucking okay anymore.

“He’s going to be fine,” I said a lot harsher than I meant to, turning around to glare at both of them even though I immediately regretted it.  Sure, fighting with my almost-brother seemed to just come natural these days, but Jess had enough shit to deal with and she didn’t need me yelling at her on top of it. But I just couldn’t stand to hear the possibility of this being it for Alex anymore. “Stop bringing it up.”

He had to be fine.  I’m pretty sure I couldn’t handle it if something else bad happened to him.  Or to anyone for that matter.

“Another minute, come on dude,” Zach’s voice had absolutely lowered about ten octaves and I was pretty sure that Alex was physically present and mentally somewhere else by the way he looked so wobbly on that bike.  I mean this wasn’t just a physical couldn’t do it anymore type look. This was a my friends think I’m fucking doomed so I’m probably fucking doomed type of look and I fucking hated it. If that look was a person I swear I would have repeatedly punched it in the face until that asshole was unconscious and leaving Alex the fuck alone.

“Hey, why don’t we take a break?” I know it came out like a question but it was definitely more of a get the hell away from him for five minutes or I will actually punch you in the face even though we’re friends tone.  I was already swimming over. And I was definitely not afraid to throw down if need be. At least it’d take some of the attention off Alex for a second.

“You’re going to have to bulk up again if you’re going to throw around that tone,” Zach nudged my arm with his fingers and I splashed him in passing.  Okay, not punching people was progress right? Also not spitting some kind of hellish hatefire in Zach’s direction was also progress, I think. Even though I wanted to tell him I could still kick his ass.  Especially when properly motivated by the blue eyes that were currently burning a hole into the side of my head.

“You okay?” I asked once Zach was away and distracted by folding his arms on the side of the pool and talking to Caleb about potential extra exercises for Alex to try.  “Like okay-okay. Real talk. Not the full fake it til you make it Alex Standall bull shit you throw around when you don’t want the attention on you.”

“You know I’m pretty sure I could still kick your ass, right?” Alex questioned, all straight faced and deadpan delivery.  Alex-Alex. The real deal. For just a brief second. “I need help off this thing.”

“Come’re,” I said quietly - why did I talk to Alex like he was going to fucking break if my tone got to be too loud? I couldn’t help it.  I didn’t think he was going to break, though. I just thought that whatever was occurring between us was supposed to be just between us. And being quiet felt like it was still just ours.  Just us, in his room, trying to make sense of the fact that we had kissed a few times and I think we both were into it? I mean I was hella fucking into it. And up until that moment, I had been fairly certain I was hella into only kissing girls - even if there were plenty of times that some dude in the locker room with his shirt off looked pretty fucking appealing.  Then Alex had to go and be all fucking quiet and have those soft, perfectly shaped lips that basically made me kiss him. I mean who says no to his fucking face? I don’t get it. Holy shit I was already in so deep.

“Everyone’s going to watch,” Alex murmured while my arms seemed to make themselves right at home around him.  One was around his lower back, holding him sturdy and up right while the other was tangled around his torso, helping to pull him free of the exercise bike from hell and just standing up in the water.  “Fuck em’,” I shrugged and only dropped the arm that was around his torso, leaving my hand on the small of his back beneath the water. I swear to God I could feel him take the tiniest step closer to me and to anyone it was probably going to be completely unnoticeable but holy shit - no cane, just me for support and the extra help of the water keeping him afloat. “Nice,” I noted, running my fingers in soft circles on his skin.  I wonder if he could even feel that spot on his lower back. Was that place still all full of feeling and not some tingly mess of skin and just another reminder of the former Alex Standall? How was I even supposed to know without being a complete asshole and outright asking him? “You want to take another step?”

“Right after I catch my breath,” he said quietly, eyes fixed on the water in front of us.  Which was making it entirely too difficult for me to see my favorite color blue and that was completely unacceptable.  So I bowed my head and did everything I could to catch his eyes and hopefully lock them to mine. He must’ve known my desire to look at his eyes was 80% because they are honestly what the sky in heaven must look like and 20% because it was easier to see if he was in pain that way.  He was well versed in keeping a straight face. But those eyes…. “I’m okay, Jus. Tired, that’s all.”

“I’m just checking,” I’m pretty sure I tried to sound nonchalant but it definitely came out a little bit more stressed than I wanted it to.  I just didn’t want another person in my life to be struggling. Fuck, I didn’t want to be struggling myself but that was a whole other story.  This was Alex. He had suffered enough. I mean really fucking suffered. I didn’t even want to think about what it was like for him to wake up and realize he had to figure out how to function again.  And he couldn’t remember a ton of shit? Fuck that. It was time for that shit to stop. “I’ll make a deal with you.” I told him while glancing across the pool. We were close to the edge - about a solid ten steps - which seemed pretty doable given Alex’s determination and my pending sugar rush of a bribe.  “I will stand right there,” I pointed and watched Alex’s gaze follow my finger to the close by spot, “And when you’ve caught your breath, you take your time and try to walk to me. The water will help you stay afloat and I will be able to grab you if you need me. Which you won’t. Because you totally fucking got this,” I slid my hand away from his back after making sure he was standing up straight.  “I’ll give you an entire pack of Sour Patch Kids, plus stop for milkshakes on the way back to your house.”

“That’s it?” He asked with raised eyebrows and adorable wrinkle between them that I had never noticed before.  Does this kid just get more attractive by the minute or am I losing my mind? I’m beginning to wonder if my subconscious is replacing my heroin addiction with an Alex Standall addiction. There was literally no other explanation for it.  Ever since Saturday night, and maybe even before then if I really think about it, this kid has been occupying the majority of my thoughts and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. “Like… some candy and a milkshake for a torturous walk? Try harder, Jus.”

I should probably stop wishing so hard for sassy as shit Alex Standall to reappear because every time he does, I kind of want to punch him.  Or push him against the wall of the pool and basically shove my tongue down his throat. Either one would work. I chose to just grit my teeth and stare at him expectantly. “What do you mean, try harder? What do you want?”

Alex smirked just slightly and sank his top teeth into his bottom lip and I’m one hundred and ten percent sure that my heart actually exploded and the pool should probably be drained because of contamination.  Did this kid even know he was doing that? And why the fuck didn’t anyone ever tell me that Alex biting his bottom lip was so insanely hot? And then it happened. I swear to God. His eyes darted down to my lips and every ounce of my willpower was fucking gone.  I was a goner. Like, hello from the other side - I’m speaking from beyond the grave. I’m fucking done. “Seriously?” I asked in a tone I didn’t know I was capable of having outside of a bedroom or locker room or conveniently unlocked janitor’s closet at school. All breathless and pretending not to acknowledge how warm that made my lower stomach feel.

He let out this sort of huff, sort of breathy laugh noise that made me want to forget all about making him walk and just step right up to him, wrap him in my arms and crush my lips to his.  But everyone was there. Every one of our friends. People we went to school with. My almost-brother. And Jessica. What the fuck would she think if I just grabbed Alex by the face and made out with him until we both couldn’t breathe?  She’d probably find someway to make herself feel bad about it given her current mental state and I just…

“You can wait until it’s just us,” he said so quietly I barely heard it.  I wish I hadn’t. Because those words made me feel like a thousand knives just shoved themselves directly into my chest.  They were words I wanted to forget I ever heard. And I couldn’t think of anything to say in response to him. Because I definitely wasn’t ready to kiss him in front of everyone.  But it wasn’t because I was embarrassed of him or trying to hide being with him from the others. It was just that I didn’t think it was fair to hurt someone else with our happiness without giving them a fair chance at understanding the situation. Being fucking sober was a hell of a lot more complicated.  I actually had to think about this shit. High Justin would have already been making out with the brown haired, bright eyed boy and giving no shits who saw. Sober Justin just wants to make sure that everyone is okay.

But most importantly…   That Alex was okay. “I want to…”   _ Kiss you, _ I willed him to understand my thoughts even though I’m pretty sure that was some Jedi-mind fuck that didn’t actually exist, “And I think…” I blew out a breath of air and tilted my head back to collect my thoughts.  God I missed being high and not having to deal with reality sometimes. All of these emotions and protecting other people… How the fuck do people do it? “I think we maybe should talk about some shit? But,” I tilted my head in Jessica’s direction, “It’s all going to be fucking complicated, Lex.”

“It’s always been complicated,” He told me with a shrug.  And just like that, he let the subject slide into silence and started taking slow slide-steps towards me.  I had no more words. I had no more anything. I was pretty confident that I had probably fucked up whatever this was between Alex and I.  I didn’t know how to tell him that kissing him was the first time I had really felt alive and like I was going to be okay in weeks. Because fairytale shit doesn’t happen to half junkies and kids who tried to end it all.  So instead of telling him anything at all, I just did what I told him I’d do. I stood with extended arms to grab him in case he needed me and a pain in my heart that made me hate myself a little more than normal.

When he made it over to me we were both actually grinning despite the conversation we held before he began moving. Despite me knowing I damn well didn’t deserve this hug and smile from him. I just couldn’t help but get wrapped up in the moment.  He really fucking did it. It may have taken him a while and a few long winded stops but there was no cane and he never once needed me to hold him up. He just put his mind to it and worked his way through the pain and through the struggle and fucking did it.  Alex Standall was my goddamn hero. “Dude, you’re incredible,” I said while hugging him tighter than I really meant to. But it was the closest I could get to him when everyone was watching us. Plus he was fucking beat and he definitely needed to be held up. “That was fucking amazing.”

His arms were lazily wrapped around my neck and his forehead was resting basically at the crook of my neck.  He was breathing hard but I could feel him smiling. I could hear the little bit of excitement in his tone, “I want an oreo milkshake.”

“You can literally have ten oreo milkshakes, Lex.  As many as you want,” and I have no idea why, but all of a sudden my eyes were full of tears and I couldn’t stop them.  Apparently sober Justin Foley cries a fucking lot these days. “Seriously man, I’m so fucking proud of you.”

“Alex!” Zach splashed back into the pool by us and was patting Alex on the back which gave me an opportunity to turn my head and wipe my eyes with the back of my hand.  My other hand was still absolutely wrapped around Alex. Not even Zach Dempsey could make me let go in this moment. “Dude! That was so great! Like really awesome progress, man.  See! I told you, you’re killing it!”

Jessica and Clay came over to the side of the pool to congratulate him too.  Tony and Caleb followed. “I promised him a milkshake,” I looked back at Clay and hoped that he didn’t have his Justin-is-in-trouble brother senses on high and would just acknowledge that basically I was telling him I needed to borrow money to buy Alex a milkshake AND he needed to drive us to the diner to get it.  “Milkshakes it is,” Clay nodded and flashed the most annoying and caring Clay Jensen face in my direction ever. Brother to brother bonding was not something I was ever going to get used to.

“You want help getting out of here?” Zach asked Alex, who had finally managed to lift his forehead away from my neck even though I kind of liked feeling his breath on my skin a whole lot.  “Let me get out and I’ll pull you up,” he offered and I quickly replied with a “I’ve got him, go ahead and get changed.”

Because I did have him.  And I wasn’t going to let Zach Dempsey take my moment with him.  And I wasn’t going to let Alex be lifted out of this pool after something so fucking amazing happened and not be properly celebrated.  And I damn well was not going to get out of this water and miss my opportunity to have five minutes of alone time with him. Especially since I wasn’t on designated Alex duty for another day or two and the Jensen’s were huge on family time.  This may be my only chance.

Zach had that all knowing look on his face again.  The one that made me want to climb into his brain and figure out what the fuck he thought he knew and how he thought he had figured it out.  It was irritating and definitely still made me want to punch him but it also made me want to high five him when he climbed out of the pool and only glanced back over his shoulder once before heading off to change.  He had left Alex and I without a question.

“Can you help m-” I fully interrupted what he was going to say - his request for help out of the pool - by crushing my lips against his harder than I had really meant to.  But my emotions were fucking everywhere and I just needed him to feel that. He had to know that I wanted this. I wanted to kiss him and to be with him, to support him and to somehow let him support me because I knew he wanted to.  I wanted to watch every fucking moment of his progress and I wanted to pick him up when those bad days were getting to be too much. I wanted to remind him every single day to keep fighting. I wanted to kiss him until he stopped thinking any type of negative thoughts and just felt good.  Even if it was only for a few perfect minutes alone in the pool right now.

This was definitely different than the kisses we shared in his bedroom.  It was a lot more intense. We were kind of fighting for dominance at one point.  Alex was pushing his lips back against mine with just as much force. He was parting his lips and letting his tongue slip into my mouth and explore until I couldn’t take it anymore.  I carefully slid my arm around him so I could pick him up just enough to spin us and leaned him back against the wall of the pool. His hands were immediately tangled in my wet hair and I had never in my life imagined another guy to feel so fucking good beneath my finger tips.  But his chest was perfect - rising and falling with his breathing - I could feel how lean he was and I couldn’t get enough. And when my hands found themselves on his hips, the bony way they stuck out just enough? The slight indent of what was probably every girls Alex Standall V-line fantasy, I pulled away and gasped for air. “Holy shit.”

“If this is a one time thing..”  He started, all out of breath and wide eyed and completely fucking confused.  I could only imagine I looked the exact same way. But I made a mental promise to myself then and there that I would never, ever be the cause of that much self doubt from him ever again.  So I leaned in and kissed him a few times, short and soft, to silence him. When we parted ways that time I made sure to respond with something that came from my heart and not from my overthinking, overanalyzing, trying to make everyone else happy brain.  “It’s an as much as possible thing, Lex. I swear.”

And just like that….   Our already fucked up lives got a hell of a lot more fucked up.  But like… The good kind of fucked up. If there was such a thing.    


	5. Part Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even if it wasn’t in a heated make-out moment. It was still because of me. And that was pretty fucking perfect.
> 
> \--------------------------------------------------------------

Here’s the thing about being a freshly adopted member of the Jensen clan - they seriously spend a lot of time trying to bond with their children and I am fully invested in every moment of it while still trying to come off as too cool for school.  Or you know, too cool to be hanging out with Clay and his parents. Our parents. Parents. But there’s something really fucking amazing about the way the living room floor is covered in blankets and throw pillows and Matt is silently mouthing every word to the Shining because it’s seen it a million times.  Something equally amazing about my ability to forever tease Clay for hiding behind his hands during the more intense parts of the movie. Honestly? The kid just stood face to face with a loaded gun and a terrifying version of Tyler Down and he’s scared of Jack Nicholson? We just lived through actual hell and the creepy hall way twins make him cringe? Where’s your superhero cape now, Jensen? 

I must have been so busy being fully invested in wondering if Clay actually keeps a superhero cape in the trunk of the Prius that I hadn’t heard my phone go off.  Twice. Luckily I had that little extra reminder noise that basically said  _ hey asshole, you have text messages _ every time it made its little extra beep-beep noise. I glanced down, fully set on ignoring whoever it would possibly be texting me because I wasn’t in the mood to listen to Zach whine about the History test he claims he probably failed but totally aced because he’s Zach Dempsey, and I wasn’t really in the mood to pretend it wasn’t awkward as hell being  _ friends _ with Jessica Davis.  I was about to click the power button to lock the screen and return my focus onto the movie and/or Clay Jensen’s superheroisms when I saw it.

_ Message from Alex Standall: _

_ Are you busy? _

_ Message from Alex Standall: _

_ My dad just got called down to the station and my mom is working an overnight.  _

Holy shit.  Was Alex Standall texting me about being home alone under the pretenses that I was going to show up at his house with full intentions of kissing him until we both couldn’t take it anymore? And then what?  And. Then. What. I mean was this a half-assed attempt at a booty call? Whatever the fuck it was, I was so fucking here for it.

“Shit,” I mumbled, then sat up a little further and corrected myself, “I mean shoot.  I mean…” And the academy award goes to… “I totally forgot that I had this Italian project that’s due tomorrow and I was supposed to finish it with Alex after school.”  I shot Clay a  _ don’t you fucking dare say a word _ glance and than gave my most pleading eyes to Lainie and Matt.  “Do you think it’d be alright if I went over there to finish? I know it’s late but we seriously need the A and I really, _ really _ want to get back on the basketball team…”  Also, I don’t even take Italian this semester.

“Take Clay’s car,” Lainie nodded her head, “There’s brownies on the counter if you want to take a couple with you over to Alex’s without letting either of his parents know I’m supplying the sugar,” She winked and was settled back into Matt’s side in no time, “Not too late, okay?”

I grinned, grabbed brownies to-go and took Clay’s car keys from the entry way with a bit of a grin in his direction.  He was definitely giving me one giant WTF face and I was going to have to be more crafty with an explanation later, but for now…   A quick cell phone and wallet check and I practically sprinted out the door. I was texting Alex from outside his house and being greeted by my phone ringing and his voice on the other end.  I was confused as to why he was calling, but definitely happy about it anyway. What the fuck did this kid do to me? I’ve lost all of my cool. “I’m here, didn’t you get my text?”

“I did,” he started, quiet but definitely smiling. I could hear it.  “But you’ve got to come around back,” he explained and I chuckled a bit, “Seriously?”

“Yes, asshole. Come to the back door,” he demanded and it was the most incredible whine I’ve ever heard.  Because it was sassy and perfectly Alex while still being so completely stoked to be doing something he wasn't allowed to do.  Adorable. “Alright, alright. Jeez. Bring a guy brownies and this is how he repays you…” I mumbled, trying to sound annoyed when in reality I’m pretty sure I couldn’t wipe the damn smile off my face if I tried.  Even while trying to balance a plate of Lainie’s homemade brownies, my phone and open the back gate to apparently meet Alex at the back door, like requested.

“Took you long enough. Give me the goods.”

The back door was open and leaning against the door frame was Alex, dressed in his usual attire now that we weren’t in the pool with his short brown hair styled in it’s normal up and perfectly messy sort of look that made me want to run my fingers through it and just actually mess it up. Not to be annoying.  But because messing up someone’s hair typically meant you were in some sort of heated make-out moment and that would be perfectly fine with me. Slight distraction thanks to those thoughts but I was back in no time, surveying the boy in front of me because something felt  _ different.  _   Ignoring the way my heart started to gear up to find an escape through my ribcage, I glanced over Alex a few more times. His smug smile told me that I definitely was missing something…

Same typical interesting t-shirt and cardigan combo; this time a floral t-shirt and a sort of ombre dyed kind of sweater.  Usual perfectly fitting but obviously comfortable joggers. No cane… Wait.

“Where’s your brace? And your cane?” I questioned and although I should have known he was alright, I momentarily freaked out and really had no chill. Like at all.  Insert my heart racing for a completely new reason. Was he hurt? Was he in some serious kind of pain and I’m being a totally fucking asshole by not acknowledging that? How long was he standing here for needing help?!  Suddenly I was as fucking close to him as possible, damn my phone and damn the brownies - I was ready to grab hold of him in case he needed me. But everything was such a fine line with Alex still so I didn’t grab him yet.  “Where’s your cane?”

“Right there,” he motioned behind him a bit, laughing a bit at my expense.  Which was fine once I realized he actually was okay. I deserved that for being one of those people who immediately think something is fucking wrong and Alex needs help.  Like, honestly? I just turned into Zach Dempsey for a second and that should never happen again. Because Alex Standall and Zach Dempsey are not a thing and Alex Standall and Justin Foley are totally a…   something. Justin > Zach. “I’m okay,” he licked his lips and carefully inched back a bit so I could come inside. I set the brownies and my phone down on the nearest surface and closed the door behind me.  Alex was leaning against the wall.

“I thought you’d be happy,” he said with furrowed eyebrows and something that looked like disappointment dancing through those blue eyes of his. I hated that goddamn look so much.  The drugs really must have done a number to my brain because it took me for-fucking-ever to put together what he meant and why he looked that way. The back room, by the back door, was like a family room.  Cozy couch and a comfortable recliner. Big tv and loads of movies. A bookcase filled with things I’d probably never recognize in a million years but Alex sure as hell would look cute reading. Tonight there was a pillow and a blanket on the couch, Alex’s cane and brace resting on the floor.  He had made it from the couch to the door - maybe 15 feet - without any help. I don’t know how long it took, or how much it hurt, or if it was even smart of him to try while he was home alone… But I  _ was _ fucking happy.  I was really fucking happy.  “Dude, you did that?” I asked, putting my hand on his good arm, curling my fingers around his elbow to help him turn around to head back towards the couch, “You walked all of that with no help and no brace on your leg?”

“The no brace part might not have been smart,” he mumbled and I could understand why - his left leg didn’t have much movement at all.  I mean he was barely able to balance himself on the ball of his foot. Which meant this was a really big fucking deal. He was an idiot. A major fucking idiot.  But this was still a really big fucking deal. “Are you in pain?”

“Always,” he shrugged and leaned towards me more. I could feel a tiny bit of my heart ache for him when he said that but there wasn’t anything I could do about it.  I mean… Months ago? I should have seen the signs. We all should have. But now? This was Alex and he was still fucking incredible - despite the fact that he’d probably have to manage pain for the rest of his life.

His chest was actually rising and falling a little harder than usual.  The struggle was fully real. But I mean holy shit, he was fucking pushing himself.  He took his bad day, his pain and his frustration from earlier and shoved it so far aside that he not only did his PT session with Dempsey (and the rest of us for good measure,) but he continued to try even while he was home.  Alex Standall really, truly was my hero. I really needed to tell him that at some point. Although he’d probably try to punch me if I did. Speaking of…

“Will you be totally fucking offended if I offer to carry you?” I questioned curiously, realizing we had definitely stopped and Alex was definitely losing his edge.  He was swaying a bit and I was pretty certain we’d topple over together if he fell and tugged on me. But his glare and response told me to think of something better, “Fuck you Foley, I’m not letting you carry me like some sort of fairytale.”

“What do you have against fairytales?” I asked curiously, sort of grinning because this was definitely going to be my ticket in.  Get Alex totally riled up and rambling and than bam - swoop him up and plop him - carefully- onto the couch. Plus dear God he was cute when he was annoyed and angry.  Hell hath no fury like Alex Standall.

“Besides the fact that they give complete unrealistic expectations of relationships and promote really toxic gender roles? I mean have you ever seen two guys fall in love in a fairytale?  And what’s the deal with the princess always needing to be fucking rescued? I mean… There are plenty of girls that would not need to be rescued. And plenty of guys that would absolutely need to be fucking rescued from a fucking dragon or something,”  yep, that’s my cue.

I was definitely going to get punched for this, but I quickly maneuvered myself to be able to pick him up, one arm beneath his arms supporting his back and the other beneath his knees.  “You know, I’ve always thought these angry rants of yours were really fucking cute.” 

“What the fuck,” One good leg kicked and he did attempt to squirm a bit at first but he gave in once he realized it was useless, “Jus!”

Try not to grin at the way he said your name, you idiot.  Try not to grin, try not to grin. “Shut up, we’re basically at the couch anyway, man.” I told him while setting him down carefully where I had assumed he was laying prior to his adventure in walking brace-less to the door.  “Plus, you weren’t being rescued from a dragon or whatever shit you were going on about. I did that solely so I could hurry up and get you nice and sugar high. Lainie made brownies.”

He opened his mouth to argue but stopped and adjusted himself on the couch so he was comfortable and sitting up.  And also so there was enough room for me to sit as close to him as possible. Don’t think I’m missing that obvious space between the arm of the couch and you, Standall. I will gladly make myself right at home there.   I grabbed the plate and carried it over, watching him for a few seconds before I got comfortable. His chest was still moving a little harsher than usual and for a moment - I assumed the time it took me to grab the plate of brownies and return - he had his eyes closed.  “Is that why you wanted me to come over?” I asked curiously, “Knight in shining armor? To bring you sugar and swoop you off your feet?”

“If you ever pick me up again..” He glared and shoved my arm - so softly, he must’ve been exhausted - with his good hand, “And no. You idiot.   Home alone doesn’t usually mean come over and help the cripple around the house.”

“So this was totally a booty call,” I said first but then stopped myself from going any further with my flirting although holyshitholyshitsholyshit.  First thing was first, “Don’t call yourself that anymore,” I said while making sure to look him right in the eye, “I’m not allowed to call myself a junkie, right?  You can’t use that word anymore.” Because Alex Standall was perfectly imperfect. He may be damaged goods, but so was I. And we were seeming to figure out slowly that we could maybe be damaged together.  He was still brilliant - so fucking smart. He was witty and could make anyone laugh so easily. He was talented. And determined. And so fucking beautiful it killed me that he would use any other word to describe himself.  “Don’t. Okay?”

“Okay,” he nodded and just like that, the subject dropped.  At least part of it did. Alex was reaching over with his good hand to break off a little piece of brownie and pop it into his mouth while he spoke.  His eyes were on the plate. That’s how I knew this was something important to him. He was always so in your face to tell you how it is, making sure you heard him and you knew you were being a dick…  But this? This was soft, honest, sincere eyes that meant no harm and a voice to match. “That’s the only way I get you.”

The last time I was in this house, I was certain that my heart was going to try to escape my body by breaking through my ribcage and soaring directly into Alex’s hands.  Like honestly? Take it. Do whatever you want with it. It’s yours - clearly. You occupy every thought of mine and honestly… All those pool house nights at Bryce’s watching you play video games with Monty and Zach? Yeah…   it was probably yours then too. You were different and I liked that. You gave them shit even though you probably wanted to fit in somewhere; you knew they were fucking assholes. At least Monty and Bryce and Marcus. Zach’s not so bad.   _ You’re _ not bad.

Now though?  Now my heart felt like it was getting kicked repeatedly while it was down.  Because it’s true - I couldn’t kiss him in the hallway at school even though it was all I wanted to do.  And I did wait until everyone was gone to kiss him in the pool. Holding his hand in public was one thing, I guess.  I could play that off easily if one of our friends questioned it. One of our friends being Jessica. Because really, that’s what this was about, I think?  I didn’t know what this would do to her. And I had done so much to hurt her.  _ So _ much.  I couldn’t keep doing things that made her feel bad.  But in the same breath…. I was doing it to Alex right fucking now.  Making him feel like that’s what this is? Some secret fucking hook up where I’ll only be with him if no one knows.  The kid already disliked himself enough to put a gun to his brain and pull the trigger… Did I really want to add on to negative bull shit racing through his mind?  Could I help it?

“Lex,” I said softly but the words died there.  I didn’t know what to say. Because sober Justin had to think so much about everything now.  He had to run through scenarios of who could get hurt by what and what was he willing to risk to get his own happiness?  Sober Justin wished really, really hard to be high in this moment. To not give a fuck about anything. To just tell the boy staring at me with the wide, lost eyes the truth.  I was completely gone for him and I just didn’t know how to go about this. But of course, I’m a fucking asshole so I couldn’t express my feelings correctly. Or like at all. At least not yet.  “I’ve never even…” I motioned with my hands, hoping he’d understand what I meant. But his confusion just got worse. I am the fucking worst. “With a guy, you know? You… You’re the first I’ve kissed.”

“Don’t worry about it,” He said quietly, attention turning to the television set even though it was turned off.  And just like that, the walls of Alex Standall flew up and I had no idea how to tear them back down. “It’s all good Justin.”

I am an idiot.  Like an actual, monumental idiot.  People will seriously build statues of me with giant signs that say  _ do not do what he did _ .  People will point and laugh because I so totally fucking deserve it.  I was striking out with the one person that I didn’t want to strike out with right now.  I wanted to be back in his bedroom, me and him and a pack of sorted-by-color sour patch kids, pretending to watch a movie but really kissing sugary sour candy tastes off each others lips.  I wanted him to put his fingers in my hair again. I wanted to wrap my hands around his waist and feel him, strong and secure right there against me. I wanted him to at least look at me again.  Because now he wasn’t even doing that. And the worst part is? It looked like he fully expected the let down and maybe even understood it. Like… he knew it’d end up bad and he was trying it anyway.  Like he expected the bad to happen. Like maybe he just thought he deserved it.

Fucking Alex Standall.  “No,” I said quickly, reaching forward to put the brownie plate on the coffee table in front of us and turning to face him from where I was sitting.  I grabbed his face gently between my thumb and pointer finger and guided him to look at me. It was fucking crazy how fast he could go from happy and excited to just… blank.   To just being there, but not really. To just… existing. “Alex, I’m not fucking explaining this right.” I took a deep breath and didn’t know what else to do. I just pressed our lips together and hoped with all my might that he’d kiss me back.  That he’d understand. That he’d give me a shot to explain, even.

I could feel him sigh and just ever so slightly kiss me back.  But he was pulling away and shaking his head, going to start speaking but I needed to cut him off.  I had to kiss him again until I could gather my damn thoughts and function like a proper person who understood that someone else’s emotions were on the line here too.  This wasn’t about just me and my thoughts and my desire to ensure Jessica was fine with this…That I wasn’t going to destroy her even more. More importantly, this was about Alex and his thoughts and his emotions.

He gave in.  He kissed me back this time.  It felt desperate and sad and exactly like what a goodbye kiss was supposed to feel like.  But this wasn’t a fucking goodbye kiss. I wasn’t going to let the last kiss I share with Alex Standall be like this.  If we weren’t going to do this anymore… Well, he was going to have to say those words. Not me. No fucking chance.

When we pulled away this time, I slid my one arm around him and let my other hand rest on the side of his neck.  I just needed to be as close to him as possible. I had to be able to feel that he was okay. That he was listening to me…  That he wasn’t just assuming that he was a mistake or that I didn’t want him or whatever the fuck was going on in his mind right now.  I needed him to just but here, with me, and somehow be understanding of the fact that I really fucking sucked when it came to emotions but I was going to try my best for his sake.  “You have no idea how often I think about you, Alex. About what could have been different between us sooner. About things I’ve done to hurt you in the past. About things I should have done to help you. You have no idea about how long I’ve thought that you are the one person at Liberty that always kept my attention and always made me want to be around you as much as possible. You have no idea how bad I want to stop caring about everyone around us and just do this thing with you.  I’d kill to be able to just hold your hand at school and kiss you between classes. I don’t care about what anyone would say, you know? I don’t give a fuck if people think I’m gay, or if people think this is fucking weird or whatever…”

“Why then?”  Hell is actually Alex Standall’s crushed tone and eyes that looked like they may actually be filled with one too many tears that were threatening to escape.  “Why won’t you? You had plenty of opportunity today to just… Hold my hand. To kiss me in front of everyone like you claim you want to do. Why can’t you? What’s stopping you?”

“Jessica.”

And there they were.  Tears. On his face. That I only got to see briefly before he turned as far away from me as he could manage to get without being able to actually get up from the couch.  Thank God he took that brace off. And Thank God I was still a bit stronger than him. Not that I’d ever actually over power him. But I just needed to hold on to him. I didn’t know what he was capable of anymore if he was upset, if things triggered poor emotions in him…  I didn’t know what anyone was capable of anymore. Hell, I was actually having to actively remind myself that the emergency twenty in my wallet was not for an emergency dose of heroin.  _ Work it out Foley.  Talk this shit through.  Pull your fucking head out of your ass and communicate better.  _

“You’re in love with her still,” he said in a tone so cold that I actually pulled back a moment.  And he took advantage of that by trying to force himself into a standing position. I reached for him but he pushed my hands away with his good one. “Stop trying to keep me next to you,” he said and quickly added it, “Was this a fucking joke?”

“Are you kidding me?” I questioned immediately, standing up so I could get in front of him and grab him before his dumb, stubborn ass fell over and hurt himself more. “You think that I’d do that to you? Alex,” I groaned and threw my head back, “I just really fucking fucked up, you know? I  _ really _ messed up with Jessica.  You know I did. You listened to the tapes.  You know what I did. And then at the dance,” he winced again and used all of his strength to push me away from him.  I stepped back a bit but caught both of his arms. He kept struggling, “It was a fucking dumb thing to do, Alex. You know that! I’ve apologized to you for it before! And I know that doesn’t make it any fucking better but that’s just another messed up thing I’ve done to that girl and I just…” He was still swinging but it was slowing down.  He was totally fucking out of it. He was swaying, unstable and looking like if he kept this up, he’d probably pass out from exhaustion. I didn’t want to hurt him, definitely not, but I had to get him to calm down. So I just pinned both of his arms down at his side and held him there as tightly as I could. Alex’s mood swings were going to give me whiplash that I totally fucking deserved and that totally fucking sucked.  “I’m afraid that one of these times I’m going to do something fucked up and she’s not going to bounce back from it.”

He stopped.  He gave up moving against my hands.  He stopped fighting me and just stared at me for a moment before collapsing back onto the couch.  He was breathing so hard I was beginning to wonder if he had asthma now or something. But really, it was just the new Alex Standall.  Easily riled up and definitely, definitely less easily calmed down. “Please fucking believe me Alex. I just… I couldn’t save you. I didn’t know. I didn’t see the signs.  And I couldn’t save Hannah. And I just… I can’t do that to her, too.” I paused and knew I needed to add, “But I don’t want to not be with you. You’re the first thing that’s felt right to me in a long time. I just need-”

“I understand,” he said between forced deep breaths.  His words were a mess. I mean shaky and stuttered and he just did not deserve any of this. I was a total dick for coming over here and causing all of this when we probably could have spent the night making out in his bedroom.  In fact I’m fairly certain that was the game plan prior to me ruining everything with having to have the most ridiculous conscious to ever exist. Fuck you brain. You’re a goddamn traitor. You’re the one filled with thoughts of Alex Standall and that determination of his and ohmygod those perfectly kissable lips and you had ample opportunity and just…   Blew it. What a fucking Justin Foley move if I ever did see one. Ruining good things at every chance I get. “Don’t beat yourself up about it,” he added because Alex Standall was nothing if not aware of everyone else’s emotions. That little mind reader. What a fucking asshole. The good guy with the heart of gold even when he wasn’t meaning to be. “You’re exhausting, Foley.”

“Well if you didn’t try to fucking punch me a dozen times,” I started with a glare and an arm around Alex’s shoulders, “Come here. Are you alright? You’ve got to take deep breaths, okay? In through your nose and out through your mouth or some shit.  That’s what coach used to tell me after one too many drills,” I held on to him tight, watching him take deep breaths and exhale them through his mouth the way I instructed. I watched as he unraveled before me from tightly wound, about to cry and then ready to fucking kill me, to quiet and concerned and definitely giving me way too much credit.  “You’re a good guy, Jus.”

“A good guy who didn’t blow his chance?” I asked softly, rubbing soft circles on his back once he had managed to curl himself up against my side.  This. This is what I wanted all night. This boy against my chest, regardless of our kissing status. Just to feel him, really get to have him there beside me, still full of fight and determination…   It’s all I ever wanted anymore. For Alex to keep living and for him to want to do so with me, in some sort of capacity. “A good guy who didn’t totally miss his opportunity at a booty call?” I added for good sarcastic measure because I thought Alex Standall would appreciate some sarcasm.

“Too tired,” he mumbled and his lips were so fucking close to my neck that it didn’t matter if we were going to make out or not - my entire body went into holyfuckingshit mode and wanted any and every touch from him I could get.  “Can you help me up to bed?”

So I did.  He was too exhausted to walk, even if we put his brace on and he had his cane.  So I offered to carry him up the stairs in a less  _ princess _ like manner; a piggy back ride.  I held his legs around my waist with one hand and carried his cane and brace in the other.  I tried to make a mental note of the brownies and my cell phone but honestly? Having Alex wrapped that tightly around me - at least, as tightly as he could be given his fucking exhaustion - I wasn’t really thinking about brownies and cell phones all that much.  Just about getting him into bed and crawling in beside him. About tangling up together and having the opportunity to sneak one or two ghost-like kisses before he was basically asleep and I was happy to just be there with him. His good hand was tangled in my shirt, his good leg was somehow wedged between mine and the boy was cradled against my chest like his fucking life depended on it.  Maybe it did a little. Maybe mine did too a little bit. But after that outburst downstairs and my piss-poor communication skills, this was a welcomed end to a day filled with too many ups and downs. I was just closing my eyes, about to settle in because I obviously wasn’t going anywhere thanks to the death grip he had on my shirt, when he said oh-so-quietly in that adorably demanding Alex tone of his, “You owe me so many red sour patch kids tomorrow, Foley.”

“So many,” I responded, resting my chin against his hair, happy with my ability to finally mess it up a bit…  Even if it wasn’t in a heated make-out moment. It was still because of me. And that was pretty fucking perfect.


	6. Part Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But now - just like he had said last night - alone is the only way he got me. And I was the biggest fucking asshole on the planet. 
> 
> \------------------------------------------------------------

There’s a lot of things that are really fucking awful about being ripped out of a peaceful sleep and forced to be awake well before your body is ready. Like holyfuck alarm clocks are the devil, that beep beep beep beep noise is the actual worst and school really shouldn’t start before nine in the morning - these are just cruel and unusual torture methods. But worse than alarm clocks and school starting at 7:45? Alex Standall in full blown panic, trying to push you out of the warm bed with his one good hand and one good leg. “What, what?” I groaned, trying to hide my face against a pillow because sleep is way too good. Sleeping next to Alex? A hundred times better. 

“Dude, get up. Get up right now,” his voice was totally a whisper but he there was full panic in it. And that woke me up way too quickly. He was looking between his bedroom door and me, back and forth in a way-too-early-for-this-shit frantic manner and I just wanted to reach out and massage the crease between his eyebrows. Instead I just listened. I rolled over and stood up from the bed and stared at him expectantly. Because there had better be a fucking great explanation for this. 

“My dad is home early,” He tried his best to situate himself so it looked like he was the only one sleeping in the bed - propping pillows the way he would normally leave them, I assumed. And then I heard it. The stairs creaked. Thank God for old houses and warning signs because we’d be so royally fucked if we didn’t know the door was about to be flung open. “Hide, hide. Get in the closet!”   
I couldn’t help but smirk in Alex’s direction at that really fucking ridiculous metaphor for my life. I would have reminded him that I am definitely, fully in the closet at all times right now but Mr. Standall had a gun, and a taser, and probably didn’t want to find another boy cuddling his son when there was zero adult supervision. The irony of me literally hiding in Alex’s closet will have to wait for later. Right now I was trying my best to not even breathe while his dad came into his room to check on him. 

“You’re awake?” He asked quietly and I could hear Alex mumble out a tired excuse of needing a little extra time to study for a history test that appeased his dad. “Donuts downstairs when you’re ready. Call me if you need help-”

“Dad.” He said firmly. I could actually hear the way he was shaking his head. I wondered if anyone would ever really realize that he did not need nearly as much help as they thought he did. I mean honestly - he walked without a cane and a brace last night! Not that his dad was allowed to know that… 

“Oh and Alex?” His dad’s voice was a bit further away, like maybe he was in the hallway or at least halfway out the door, “Did one of your friends leave their cell phone here? You know the rules about asking before someone comes over.” Oh. Holy. Fuck. “If you’re having them sneak you junk food at least clean it up before your mom gets home. I’ll stash that plate of brownies for you.” 

“Thank you. Sorry, sir.” Alex said and I waited for the door to close but it didn’t. Instead his voice was smaller and he seemed to be correcting himself, “Dad. Sorry, dad.” My heart hurt a little bit more than usual for the boy in that moment. He still hadn’t quite adjusted to people caring about his well being the way he should have. First last night - which was totally, one hundred and sixty thousand percent my fault. But now today, with his dad. Who wanted to be more of a father than a strict enforcer of the rules and all macho-masculinity and whatever else he used to exude. Parents were fucking weird. But they sometimes - mostly - meant well. I mean he was hiding the evidence. 

The door clicked closed and I practically fell out of the closet when Alex opened it. “Well if that wasn’t a glimpse into what your actual future holds,” he noted with a sleepy, sarcastic smile and those half awake eyes that made me want to drag him right back to bed. “Your options are to wait until my dad goes to sleep and go out the front door or you can actually climb out my window and down a tree like some fucking cliche teenage romcom would dictate you do.”

I couldn’t help it. I leaned forward to kiss him. Because I wouldn’t get the opportunity to do that for a while thanks to having to go to school and no - apparently - having to shimmy my way down a tree without getting caught by a police officer/dad. Happy fucking 6:30 a.m., wake up call, Justin. You better savor these kisses.

“Considering I swept you off your feet last night,” He swatted at my chest with his good hand and I grinned, grabbed it, and laced our fingers together, “I’ll do the window method. Just bring my phone to school, okay?” But I was still holding his hand. And all of his words from last night were starting to come back into my mind. This is the only way I get you. Leaving - even if it was about to be out the window of his bedroom - meant that we were back to pretending that whatever was going on between us was strictly just friends until I could get my shit together enough to deal with this. So now I was holding his hand tighter and not moving.

“You’re going to crush my fingers,” he noted but didn’t budge. Instead his eyes were searching my face for whatever hints of what was going through my mind he could find. I huffed out a laugh, shook my head and let go of his hand. “Don’t forget you owe me-”

Another kiss. And then another one. Because I was definitely much better at being physically appreciative of the boy before me than I was with being verbally appreciative for his ability to allow me extra time to get my fucking head out of my ass. “Red Sour Patch Kids, I know, I know.” And one more kiss for good measure. He smiled at that last one and motioned his head towards the window, “I’ll see you soon.”

“Don’t break any bones,” He warned and moved away from me slowly. He had his cane and was about to go about his usual morning routine that I really, desperately wanted to be apart of but unfortunately had to go attempt to not plummet to my death outside the Standall residence. I wished I could be back wrapped up beneath a comforter with Alex tucked safely in my arms and a million really amazing dreams flowing through my mind. Peaceful sleep wasn’t something I was used to. And now that I had it with him - I was going to want it all the time. And if I was living with my actual mom, sneaking out to get it would be a hell of a lot easier. But now I was living with the Jensen’s and…

“Fuck,” I cursed, one leg out the window and the other still basically inside. Alex turned quickly and was already trying to get over to me as quick as he could - thinking I was probably going to fall and break a bone and then we’d both need babysitters and his dad would definitely know I was here. “No, shit, I’m fine with climbing. I fucking forgot to tell the Jensen’s I wasn’t going to come home.” 

A small smile unlike anything else I’d ever seen on Alex’s face appeared. It was the perfect mix of shocked and happy - maybe even a little bit excited? But it was all as if he was trying not to show any emotion whatsoever and failing. Hard. “I’ll text Clay and have him give them the heads up that we totally fell asleep while studying and your phone died.” He watched me carefully as my other leg joined the first one and I was definitely standing on the little roof that hung over their front porch. Here goes nothing. 

You know what’s terrifying? Not the actual going from the tiny roof above the front door to the tree close by and climbing down, no. But the part where I have to physically do all of that in front of a window where I can actually see Alex’s dad and I have to actively pray that he doesn’t turn around and shoot me. Because cop instinct would be to assume someone was trying to climb into his house, you know? Not that I’m sneaking out of his son’s bedroom window after spooning with him all night. 

The other terrifying thing? Safely avoiding death-by-Alex’s-dad and arriving home to both Lainie and Matt waiting in the kitchen with frowns. Frowns suck. Especially when they’re from two of your most favorite people. Because that’s what the Jensen’s are, you know. My favorite people besides a few select friends. And now I’ve gone and disappointed them. And my initial instinct was that they were going to be so mad that I was going to have to go back to living with my mom. Or worse. Because I doubt she’d take me. 

“We got Alex’s message from Clay,” Lainie said while Matt pulled out a chair and filled a mug with coffee for me. I braced myself for impact. Get out of our house in three… two… “Do you want some breakfast or did you two eat already?” But the impact never came. Just a mug of coffee and a stack of pancakes and Clay fumbling down the stairs looking crazy. “Dude eat and get upstairs and get ready so we’re not late. Mister Hanchen is rivaling satan for morning moods and I don’t want to get detention.” 

Everything was normal. Except that little next time call us reminder from Lainie when Clay and I were on our way out the door. I don’t think I had ever showered and gotten ready that fast in my life. And despite not actually getting in trouble, sneaking out of Alex’s house and getting to remain a Jensen, I was still most excited about seeing a specific set of bright blue eyes when we arrived at school. We’re talking leg bouncing, fingers tapping on the doorframe, watching out the window excited. Like. Christmas morning excited. I have lost all of my cool apparently and I’m not even a little upset about it.

“So what’s going on with you and Alex?”

Correction. I’m a little upset about it. Because I was totally blindsided by Clay’s question and not given any opportunity to come up with an actual answer before he continued on and I sat there with a very dumb sort-a smile on my face. “I mean you guys have gotten to be like this,” he crossed one finger over the other to demonstrate, “And I get it. You both went through a lot of shit and you liked the same girl and I don’t know how he tolerates your dumb ass but he does… But like,” He glanced over at me just as I was about to protest the ‘dumb ass’ remark. “You constantly look at him like he’s not just your friend. And I’m pretty sure he looks at you like that too.”

Remember when Clay was so fucking stupid about listening to the tapes and took his merry time getting through it and I almost pounded his actual face in? Where is that annoying slow, really fucking dense dude and can we get him back? Because if this is a realization that Clay Jensen came to all on his own, 

“Nothing,” I said quickly - maybe too quickly. I sank into my seat a little further and felt like a complete and total dick for saying that nothing was going on when it was very, very obvious to my brother from another mother that something was definitely going on. And all I could hear were Alex’s ‘it’s the only way I get you,’ and ‘you’re a good guy, Jus,’ running through my head, making each breath I took feel like a hundred tiny shards of glass found their way into my lungs. I’m not a good guy. I’m definitely not a good guy for making Alex have to hide whatever it is he’s feeling.

Whatever happened next was a complete blur. Tiny shards of glass in my lungs turned into fire in my throat and maybe a dozen pairs of hands pressing too firmly on my chest. I could not seem to pry my eyes open and I was fairly certain we were doing donuts in the middle of the school parking lot, spinning round and round and round.

“Justin!”

Holyfuckingshit. Did I just have a panic attack?

I missed the part where Clay parked and unbuckled his seatbelt as well as mine. I missed the part where he got out of his side and ran over to mine, pulling the door open and grabbing me by the shoulders. When I did actually open my eyes and try to remember how to breathe, he was staring at me like he had just seen a ghost and I was definitely, definitely hoping I had died and was in fact a ghost and wasn’t going to have to explain the fucking Alex Standall panic attack I just put myself through.

“I’m okay,” I told him and tried to get out of the car but the ground betrayed me like the asshole it was and I completely fell back into my seat. Which was totally embarrassing and of course Zach’s car pulled up just in time to witness it. I was somehow awkwardly half in - half out of the car and bracing myself against the door frame and breathing like coach had just made me run a million suicides and it fucking sucked. And what sucked more? The frantic pair of bright blue eyes and the body they belonged to struggling to move quickly across the few free spots between Zach’s car and ours. 

“Are you okay?” Zach asked first, getting to me and grasping his hand around my upper arm to pull me to my feet. I couldn’t even begin to give an appropriate answer because my brain was short circuiting over the way Alex looked like he wanted to do something but the internal battle was real and in reality, he hung back and let Zach and Clay do their thing. And eventually he just turned to start making his way into school without even a goodbye, assumably because we’d all catch up to him once I was done being a fucking idiot and forgetting how to properly breathe and function like a normal human. 

 

“Okay, what’s actually going on?” Clay questioned, standing in front of me. Zach stood beside him, arm extended in case I started to lose my balance. I shoved his hand away, grabbed my backpack from the floor of the car and swung it over my shoulder. Breathing fucking sucked right now but I wasn’t going to stand here and let everyone in the school parking lot stare at me - again, because they did exactly that when I first came back from running away - so I just started walking.

“You know no one is going to care if you like him, right?” It was probably meant to be private, between Clay - who hadn’t left my side - and me, but Zach was right there and somehow he just chimed right in. Because all those times he was looking at me like he knew something I didn’t know just made complete and total sense. I wasn’t being secretive about this at all. Or at least the people who really seemed to know me best were on to me. I was so totally gone on Alex Standall and I wasn’t fooling anyone. And although I was fucking pissed to be dealing with this and pissed to be somehow developing panic attacks over blue eyed, determined boys, I maybe softened a little bit at what Zach said next. “He likes you too.”

“Please just drop it,” I asked. In fact, I almost begged. Because this was not the fucking place or the fucking time to be dealing with the fact that holyshitamIbisexual?! And how am I supposed to fix whatever Alex was feeling and not do any more damage to Jessica and maybe, just maybe, not ever have another panic attack again? I made it through a shitty home life, thirteen cassette tapes, a bunch of polaroids, jail, adoption and a handful of other emotionally impactful things and never once had forgotten how to breathe. Now all of a sudden I’m having a sexual identity crisis and too many feelings about a boy and it was a really, really big trigger on my panic button.

“What’re you afraid of?” Clay didn’t drop it. Because he’s a fucking asshole and I was definitely going to punch him later for this. “I mean he’s into you, right?” He stuttered a little bit with his words because I think realizing that maybe his newly-adopted brother might be partially gay was a bit much for quarter to eight in the morning, “Is it the whole,” he motioned down low - towards the belt on his jeans and a little lower - and I swatted his hands quickly, “I bet you could talk to Tony.”

“Holy fucking shit Jensen, I don’t need to talk to Tony. I’m pretty sure I know exactly how that works,” sex was sex, right? Not that I was having sex with Alex but still. “Put your hands away before somebody sees you. Fuck.” 

“Somebody like Alex?” Zach nudged my side and it was official - we had miraculously turned into thirteen year old girls talking about Harry-fucking-Styles or some shit in the high school hallway and not my love life or sex life with Alex Standall. When did this turn into the fucking Twilight zone?! 

“Dude,” I pushed him away and he side-stepped past a freshman that he probably would have knocked straight to the floor if he had collided with. “I like him, okay?!” I would have covered my mouth with both my fucking hands if that wasn’t totally embarrassing and would have gotten us even more attention. But I was out of ideas on how to get them to stop fucking talking. “Leave it at that, seriously. Just leave it alone and let me get to fucking homeroom. Don’t you have a backpack to go carry for him anyway?” And maybe I was glaring at Zach a little bit much because he had somehow gotten me to outloud admit something that I was positive I wasn’t going to do until maybe Jessica Davis’ dad relocated their family, or high school was over and we could get the fuck out of this town or (and more realistically) for another week or two so I could figure out a way to tell her without causing so much drama. 

“Don’t you?” He shot back and I immediately looked down at my feet. Because he was right. If this was yesterday, I would have been carrying Alex’s backpack and walking him to homeroom. But now - just like he had said last night - alone is the only way he got me. And I was the biggest fucking asshole on the planet.


	7. Part Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Priorities. Alex Standall. Then everything else.
> 
> \-----------------------------------------------------

The biggest asshole on the planet who did not fail to notice that when lunch time came around, there was no Alex Standall and no Jessica Davis to be found.  And what’s worse? There was so much jealous-Justin to be found. Because I am a fucking train wreck of emotions and I can’t get my goddamn shit together enough to tell the boy I’m into that I want to be with him and  I can’t tell the girl that still occupies a huge space in my heart - albeit more friend than romantic now - that I’m totally, one hundred and fifty percent falling completely for her ex boyfriend. Fuck. Because that wouldn’t totally throw her for a fucking loop or anything.  Her ex boyfriends deciding to date? That’s throwing me for an actual loop right now and I’m an active participant in this bullshit scenario playing out in front of me.

“They’re not here,” Zach interrupted my thoughts by placing his lunch tray down across from me before he sat down.  I would have remembered to tease him for his choice of eating cereal for lunch today but I honestly didn’t have the ability to be anything but concerned for where ever the fuck Alex was with Jessica.  Was he telling her? Was he trying to go back to her? I couldn’t blame him for that last one. It’d be much easier if he just loved her and she loved him and I was the only one with the fucked up heart over this.  What the actual fuck was going on right now?

“Where’d they go?” I asked cautiously.  The answer to that might just set me off into a completely awful mood and I still had some kind of bull shit writing assignment to finish that somehow managed to make up 25% of my semester grade. Didn’t my teacher know that I had a fucking internal crisis to deal with that was a lot more important than a paper on Charles Dickens or whoever the fuck that dude was.

“I’m not sure. Alex asked me at the end of first period of they could borrow my car and you know how it is when he waves the cane and gives you the eyes,” he explained, cracking open one of three bowls of Fruit Loops, pouring milk into it and beginning to dig in.  How could he eat when there was a serious whatthefuck moment occuring right in front of him? Like… I am one hundred percent positive I’m staring at him with what could only be classified as deer-in-headlights eyes thanks to the potential of Jessica fucking Davis getting back together with Alex because I am the fucking worst.  I pushed my lunch tray away immediately. My stomach had started doing these weird somersault things that were basically the side effect of this rickety roller coaster I called my life these days. Plus I think I was still recovering from my panic attack earlier. Fuck this shit.

“Just text him,” Zach suggested, mouth full of fruit loops and an expression that was basically shouting  _ you’re an idiot, Justin _ .  I was, definitely. Not going to even argue a little bit about that.  But this situation wasn’t that simple. So I couldn’t just jump up and chase after him the same way I would have if this was last year and the person being chased was Jessica.   It was much easier before blonde hair and blue eyes and emotions were involved.

Although technically, they were always involved.  Alex was always a good guy with a heart of gold and the weight of the world on his shoulders.  It was always something I was drawn to. Whether I was going to admit it back then or not. Now? Now I just have to decide when and how I’m going to admit it to the world and go from there. So as simple as Zach fucking Dempsey thought this was, it really fucking wasn’t.  “Whatever man.”

“You have to eat something,” Zach nudged my tray back towards me.  “You know…” He started and then stopped and I basically was sitting on the edge of the lunch table bunch, debating throwing my food at him or waiting to hear whatever the fuck he was about to lecture with.   Luckily, he started talking before a fruit cup hit him directly in the face. “You are still getting back on track. Both of you. But you need to  _ try _ to be good for him, you know?  Because he’s going to put you first.  He doesn’t understand how important he is to people. There’s a huge disconnect there.  He will take any sign of you being too much in your own head as a sign of you realizing he isn’t worth your time-”

“I’m not worth _ his _ time.” I interrupted.  Zach just shook his head.  “You are. Don’t be so hard on yourself. But if you’re going to show up for him, you have to show up all the time.” He stopped, shrugged up his shoulders and sighed, “Take it from someone who learned that the hard way, okay?  Just be all in or all out, Justin. You can’t go back and forth with him.”

I sat back in my seat and sighed loudly because there was nothing I hated more than admitting that Zach Dempsey is totally right and totally annoying and I should have flung fake pineapple and cherries and whatever else was in this fruit cup at his face when I had the chance.  Instead I just peeled back the lid and picked up my fork and started eating to show Zach that I could pull my shit together for Alex’s sake. I could. I just needed time.

“Text him.” He motioned towards my phone, resting on the table.  I looked at it intently, willing a message from Alex to appear on it’s own.  A  _ wish you were with me instead _ message or some equally obnoxiously cliche shit that I didn’t deserve.  But nothing. No alerts, no social media posts - there was nothing from Alex and that made my stomach go right back to the post tilt-a-whirl flips it was doing.  Because he was probably enjoying his time with Jessica and I really shouldn’t ruin it. He deserved a day off from thinking about whether or not I was actually into him, or actually ever going to give him the relationship he probably wanted.  He deserved a day where he felt like he was enough and like he made someone happy - because he  _ was _ enough and he definitely made me happy.  I just couldn’t stop messing this up.

It must be freezing in hell because I actually listened to Zach Dempsey and that’s some shit that never really happened.  I picked up my phone and quickly typed a message to Alex and hoped for his response to follow quickly after.

_ Skipping lunch? Aka skipping out on a bag full of red sour patch kids.  Guess I’ll have to eat them alone. _

And just on cue, my phone lit up with an alert before I could even set it back down.  Alex never let me down.

_ Rude.  Are you okay? _

Of course he would ask if I was okay - because he saw me this morning in the midst of a fucking meltdown and he was Alex.  He paid attention and he wanted to make sure everything was good for me when I was  _ trying _ to see if he was okay.  Except he was more direct and I just couldn’t seem to bring myself to be as blunt as he was.  

_ All good.  Probably another one of those weird side effects of not doing drugs anymore.  Who knows. Where’d you go? _

_ Liar.  Monet’s.  Come. _

Sometimes I forget that Alex has to type with one hand and it’s probably difficult for him.  But he keeps responding anyway. And he wanted me to come to where he was - even if it involved Jessica Davis.  So maybe I was a little fucking ahead of myself in my completely diving into the thought that they were off getting back together somewhere.

Holy fuck.  I really did somehow turn into a thirteen year old obsessing over whether a boy liked me or not. FML.

_ Are you sure? Jess is with you.  _  Because I definitely needed to make sure that he wanted me to be there while he was with Jessica for my own fucking ego’s sake, I think.  To make sure that his mind was still set on Justin > Jessica. If it wasn’t, I don’t think I could take the total fucking rejection in person.

_ Be better if it was you.  Come. _

And that answered that.  I finished off that pathetic excuse of what could never actually be considered real fruit and stood up, “I’ll catch you later.”

“Go get him, man.” Zach grinned and out of habit, I definitely gave him the finger - but it was totally out of love because one day I’d be man enough to admit that Zach was a real fucking friend.  He told it how it was sometimes - in his own way - but he definitely was always rooting for his friends. Even if it meant that had to deal with a whole lot of my shit.

What’s great about being a Jensen now was that needing to leave school meant Clay was basically obligated to give me the car keys. With very little grumpy behavior and only two reminders of that fucking english paper that needed to be handled.  The other good thing about freshly being a Jensen meant I could play the  _ I’m sorry, my head is a little foggy after jail and the adoption _ card and teachers actually fucking bought it.  It may have even been a little bit true. But I was confident that I’d get an extension on the paper and I could stay up all night to finish it if I had to.

Priorities.  Alex Standall.  Then everything else.

The other great thing about being a Jensen now was that my clothes seemed to be a lot more presentable and I actually had some things to take care of myself - cologne, better products to actually do my hair, everything.  Which basically meant I was checking my reflection in the visor mirror before getting out to walk into Monet’s. Even though Alex had already seen me today. I even raised my sweater towards my nose a bit and gave it a sniff.  I had to make sure I still smelled good to see him. Who the actual fuck am I? Never in a million years….

This sweater over a button down combo reminded me just enough of him that it was comforting when I pulled open the door and scanned around for where Alex and Jess were.  I don’t know why I did that because they were obviously always at Hannah’s table. So after two full deep breaths, I made my way over and stood beside his chair.

“Hey Justin,” Jess flicked her eyes to me and gave me a smile that told me Alex had definitely not told her I was coming.  Which was probably because I had made him feel like he couldn’t discuss whatever was happening between us with her. Or anyone. Because reminder: I, Justin Foley -maybe Jensen- am a fucking asshole.

“Hi.” I said quietly, waving a bit awkwardly before pulling the chair out beside Alex.  I flashed to a moment of wonder. Was this Hannah’s seat? Was this where all those F.M.L. meetings took place and they held hands and told each other their secrets?  

Did he invite me here so we could tell our secret?

“Need a refill?” I asked Alex while he was placing his hand onto his cane, seemingly to stand up.  He just nodded and settled back into his seat. Jess looked confused at the way he didn’t put up a fight to allow me to get him a refill.  “Sure, thanks.” He pushed his mug in my direction and I don’t know why I did it, but I needed to just casually brush my fingertips along his when I picked up the mug.  I just  _ needed _ to touch him.  I just needed two seconds of normal Justin and Alex behavior.  I needed to just feel like everything was still okay between us.  

He smiled just a little and gave his empty mug over.  He glanced at Jess’s mug as well, basically telling me I needed to offer to get her a refill too so it didn’t come off as weird.  Plus, I really wasn’t that much of an asshole to ignore her. “Jess?”

“Sure.  Hot chocolate,” she told me and pushed her mug over.  Then I saw it. Extra empty mugs in front of the empty seats. I looked curiously at Alex and he smiled just barely to explain, “My brother is home from school.  With his girlfriend.”

“Should I…?” I asked, meaning should I sell my soul to pay for a round of refills for the entire table? I was going to owe Clay so. Much. Money.  “Nah, they headed out. He wanted to take her to see a movie.”

“You skipped to see your brother?” I asked - fully fucking forgetting that Jessica was at the table and probably so fucking confused as my sudden interest in everything Alex.  “Are you okay?”

“Are you?” He asked back, staring up at me while I balanced the empty cups in my hands and wished with everything in me that I hadn’t offered to get the refills and instead could man the fuck up and just sit down beside him and touch him to make sure he was okay.  I didn’t answer. So he went first. “I’m okay. I just wanted him to see that I can function. So I had to twist Jess’s arm and have her drive me with the promise of extra whipped cream.”

I acknowledged what he said and could feel the underlying _ not a date _ tone he was trying to express with that Jedi mind trick thing he sometimes did.  I was beginning to become an actual Alex Standall mind reader afterall. Another thing I was maybe sometimes doing right.

“I’m okay,” I repeated his words and offered my own explanation. “Being a Jensen means a lot of talking about things you don’t want to talk about yet.”  Code for  _ he knows _ . Alex only nodded and slid his good foot so his toe nudged mine ever so slightly.  “You’ve got this.” He added, and my heart did this strange thing where it felt like it was breaking and so happy all at the same time.  Can we get one one page, please? Preferably the one where I was actually fucking happy and not a complete and total disaster about the boy in front of me.  He was so understanding and so patient with me and all I could do was make him wait for me to pull it together and figure out my shit. And he encouraged me.  Which meant he was still just fine with me taking my time.

I didn’t deserve this.

“You do too,” I told him with a shrug and turned around to go get them refills and order myself something so at least it wasn’t so fucking weird that I crashed their day. I don’t even know what the fuck I meant by that.  Alex would be okay. I always wanted him to believe that. Whether or not it was with me - I’d make sure he was always okay.

When I returned back to the table, Jess was scrolling through her phone and Alex was reading a book.  I wondered immediately if this was what friendship was like. Comfortable silences with people who just got you and didn’t need acknowledgement all the damn time for you to know they cared.  I wonder if I’d ever be at that level with Jess. Because right now I was on edge just thinking about how I could maybe ruin my friendship with Jess with just an accidental lingering touch to Alex’s arm or a way too many stolen glances in his direction.  And then I started to wonder if I even cared that much. Because the people who mattered to me were supposed to love me for who I am, right? Clay did. Zach did. Alex seemed to. Was I just not giving Jess the benefit of the doubt? Was I just getting in my own fucking way? 

Who knew.  Because by the time I was about to open my mouth and say something to break the ice, the door opened and everyone’s eyes shot up.  Bryce and Monty were walking into a place I’d never think they’d come. And by the look on Alex’s face, he didn’t think they’d ever be there either.  Jessica was just frozen in place.


	8. Part Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All that mattered to me in that moment was him.
> 
> \-------------------------------------------------

“Shit.”

All it took was one word in Jessica’s pretending to be okay but really a fucking mess voice to set me into overdrive.  I immediately moved my chair to be between them both evenly and almost, hopefully, blocking Bryce from seeing her at all.  “I won’t let him near you,” I told her quietly, wondering if it was even possible for me to stop him. I had been trying to do right by Jess every day since this entire shit went down and right now killing Bryce in the middle of a coffee shop with my bare hands didn’t seem like too bad of an option.  But somehow Alex managed to loop his foot around my ankle. He was keeping me in my seat. I could feel the energy radiating off of him. He was protective. Of Jessica  _ and _ me.  

“Did you drive here?” He asked me curiously, only glancing at my face.  He was looking over my shoulder to make sure those two stayed as far away from us as possible. If looks could kill, I wouldn’t have to get my hands dirty at all.  Alex was shooting daggers directly at those assholes. “Take her out to the car,” he instructed quietly. “You guys go first and I’ll meet you outside.”

I could feel the worry lines forming in between my eyebrows.  Leave him in this fucking cafe as an open target to Monty and Bryce’s bull shit?  Zero fucking chance. But he was doing that thing where he was not going to take no for an answer and Jess was already climbing to her feet.  I wondered, momentarily, how they had gotten here to begin with. “We have Zach’s car. I can go on my own,” she was giving him that voice that said a multitude of things all at once: stop babying me, keep protecting me, come with me…    Way too many emotions for me to wrap my head around.

“Stay right here and I’ll come back in for you, okay?” I don’t think I even realized I was putting my hand on top of his until he flipped his over - palm to palm again.  Only briefly before he pulled his hand back and nodded as if he was actually going to listen to me. He wasn’t. This was Alex we were talking about.

Jess was already up and walking towards the door of the cafe, a whirlwind of quick movements and hopeful behavior.  I shot Alex an apologetic look, not  _ wanting _ to leave him but he told me to.  Also, the fact that he told me to go outside with Jessica without him was a total mind fuck if we’re being honest, but I didn’t really have time to think about that.  Bryce and Monty were eyeing Jessica as she made it to the door and outside.

Bryce would be a fucking idiot if he said anything to her.  In fact, I’m pretty sure there’s probably some court mandated million-feet distance he has to keep between her and him and he probably just failed it.  Although in Bryce’s world that somehow equated to Jessica needing to leave a place so Bryce could stay there. The world seemed to bow down to that rapist dickbag.

“Justy!”

Fuck my entire life.

I turned my head in Bryce’s direction and had to stop myself from immediately lunging over there to kill him.  I didn’t even bother to acknowledge him. I also didn’t turn back towards Alex because I thought that would make shit worse.  Boy was I fucking wrong.

The familiar click of Alex’s cane was getting closer until it stopped right beside me.  His voice was low and coated with something that sounded like venom. He also wanted to kill “Come on, let’s go.”

“You’ve upgraded from Zach to Justin, huh Standall?”  There is something so cringy about Monty these days. Like he’s more up Bryce’s ass than usual.  Like he’s desperate and wild and oh fucking yeah - he tried to leave Alex in the middle of nowhere with no cell phone and zero ability to walk back home.  Luckily no one in their right mind was going to let Alex be alone with that douche and Clay ended up getting him before he had been out there too long. That reminds me.  I’m going to kill this son of a bitch.

“Jealous Monty?” I questioned, standing in front of Alex, “Since you seem to be hanging off Bryce’s dick.  Too bad he only gets off on girls that don’t want him and tell him ‘no,’”

“Jus,” Alex warned, reaching his good hand out for my arm.  I stepped back, letting his hand wrap around my upper arm with ease. “It’s okay, Lex.  Go outside.” I was careful not to mention Jessica.

“Pet names, huh?  There something you want to tell us, Justin?” Bryce, his smug fucking face, leaning on the table with his elbows and his chin resting on his hands.   I had to mentally talk myself down from kicking the leg of his chair and hoping to fucking God he’d move backwards and his face would somehow slam down onto his own fist and cause some kind of pain.  But I could feel Alex’s hand tightening on my arm. He wasn’t listening to me - and I’m not super sure why I even thought he would in the first place. “There’s a lot of fucking shit I’d like to say to you but not a single ounce of it has to do with Alex.”

“Aw, you’re not going to tell us about your boyfriend?  First Zach and now you. Seems like Alex has a type. Do the three of you just get each other off while you’re babysitting the gimp?  Oh - is that another broken thing that happened since the whole hole in the head situation?”

I reacted before my brain could even catch up and process this.  I don’t know how I got my fist tangled in Monty’s shirt and lifted him from his seat to pinned against the wall beside his table, but there I was.  Shoving him again and again and again into the wall. Maybe if his head rattled enough, he’d get some fucking sense knocked into him. “I’ll fucking kill you,” I heard a voice come out of me that didn’t sound like me one bit.  It was low and wild and oozing so much truth that I scared myself a little.

I didn’t even get an opportunity to hit him and holyfuckingshit I wanted to pound his face in like nothing I had ever felt before.  All I could do was let go of him the moment I heard Alex’s voice asking me to. “Justin, stop - please? It’s not worth it. Stop! You’re on probation!”

I could feel both of his hands on me now, although one was doing absolutely nothing and the other felt shaky and frantic, tugging at my clothing to try and hold me back.  This was the same boy who had turned me over and saved my life from choking to death - although, maybe that would have been for the best at this point - and now he had no strength?  Monty got to him. Not physically, but worse; emotionally. And it probably should have made me kill Monty right then and there so he’d never have the opportunity to hurt anyone again but instead, I listened to Alex.  I let go with one final push against Monty’s chest and backed up. “If you ever say that shit again…”

“You’ll what?” Monty fired back, trying to get in my face, all puffed up like a fucking peacock ready to impress a potential mate.  Aka, trying to still somehow impress Bryce despite knowing goddamn well that he’s a serial rapist piece of shit. “You’ll do nothing, Justin.  Because you’re on probation.” The last part was meant to mimic Alex, definitely, but neither of us were paying attention to him anymore. Alex was already turned, walking slowly with his cane towards the door and I was following a foot or two behind, hand out towards his back in case he needed me to support some of his weight while he rested.

“Bye boys. See you soon,” Bryce called out just as we reached the door.  Alex flinched. I know that I had gotten thin since jail despite the Jensen’s best efforts to put some weight back on me.  I probably still looked like a fucking junkie - I definitely still felt like one. And I probably couldn’t actually take Bryce in the shape I was in currently, but I’d fucking die trying if it meant defending Alex  _ and _ Jessica and preventing him from ever putting his hands on another person again.  That fucking piece of shit deserved every single shit thing that could happen to him.  Too bad in his fucking day, in this fucking town, nothing will ever happen to him. The Walker’s will throw money at who the fuck ever to make their sons problem disappear.  He’ll go to college and continue his rapist ways straight on through and all anyone will fucking care about is his baseball stats and what field is being named after him this week.  This place was so fucking beyond stupid, it actually hurt to think about it.

“Are you fucking crazy!”  Oh, okay - the hurting part was actually Alex’s good hand shoving my chest once we were safely away from Monet’s.  “For fuck’s sake, Justin! You could go back to jail! Over what?! Him saying some fucking truthful shit about me?!”

I didn’t stop him when he was pushing me, a little impressed that despite the emotional distress, he was giving his all into these pushes and there was a little strength behind them.  My Alex. Always the fighter. “Calm down, calm down,” I held my hands out in front of me, a little to protect myself but mostly so I could grab his swinging hand and hold it between both of mine, “You’re not broken.  I’ll never let anyone say that shit about you, you hear me? You’re. Not. Broken.”

“Yes, I am.  And you have to just let it go.” He tugged his hand, as if to pull it away but I held on tighter.  “You can’t be doing this, Justin! You can’t be putting yourself into the middle of things just because he said some fucking stupid shit! It’s Monty! Every goddamn thing he says is stupid!”

“Will you please just calm down,” I stressed, hearing the strain in Alex’s voice.  He wasn’t fighting to pull his hand away from mine anymore. He was just yelling and staring at me with eyes that looked so wild and angry and confused, I didn’t know what else to do.  I stepped closer to him and dropped my voice so it was quiet. Maybe he’d mirror my tone and start to calm down, “You’re not some  _ fucking stupid shit _ , Alex. And I’ll fight the entire world if I have to in order for you to see that, you hear me?” I looked into his eyes, waiting for him to settle.  He wanted to argue, I could tell. I could feel it in the way his hand felt tense still, between both of mine. Before he had an opportunity to argue or to pull himself away from me, or do anything else totally typical Alex, I crushed my lips against his right then and there.  Anyone, everyone who could see us be fucking damned.

All that mattered to me in that moment was him.


	9. Part Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I was greeted with sharp red letters that made my stomach twist.
> 
> \---------------------------------------------------------

Our kiss felt like it lasted forever and was gone too quickly all at the same time.  The moment he relaxed and stopped feeling so tense was the moment he pulled away to look at me.  His eyes were confused and he still seemed to be shaking a bit - too many wild emotions giving him no place to calmly land and asses the situation, I’m sure.  “Relax,” I told him softly, dropping only one hand from holding his so I could reach up and rest my fingers on his neck for a few seconds. “Try to relax, okay?”

“You kissed me,” he stared.  I could feel my eyebrows involuntarily twisting.  Was that not something he wanted? 

“Is that bad?” I’m sure I could have had some tact and taken him to the car, gotten him settled and maybe then decided to figure out if I was just a monumental idiot or not but right here on the sidewalk seemed as good a place as any.  “I mean you wanted me to the other day in the pool and you said…”

“You kissed me right here, out in the open, in front of everyone.” He was still staring at me and that was making me really regret my spontaneous display of affection.  But he kissed me back so I couldn’t have been that off on my fucking kiss-me-now scale.

“To be fair,” I looked around and laughed quietly, “There’s not that many people out right now but I would have done it even if the sidewalk was jam-packed with people.”  I dropped my hand from his neck onto his shoulder and gave a little squeeze. “Did I do something wrong again?”

Alex’s eyes darted down to the ground and he quickly shook his head.  He looked sad. “You haven’t done anything wrong, Justin. Not before, not now.”  He tried to squeeze my hand but it was a long morning of emotions and I think he just needed to sit down.  I probably didn’t make it any easier on him when I just kissed him out of nowhere in hopes of soothing him a little.  I really needed to get my shit together and act accordingly with Alex. I really needed to figure out what the fuck that even meant.

Zach was right.  If I was going to show up, I had to show up all the time.  And that meant that I couldn’t give him what I thought he wanted to hear and I definitely couldn’t avoid talking about the serious things.  Like kissing him on the sidewalk outside of a coffee shop when I was having a hard time being with him in front of our friends just hours before.  “I thought maybe it would help you calm down,” I started and he immediately went to protest, “I mean, knowing I’m here. Like that. Like this,” I moved our joined hands between us a little to signal what I really was referring to.  “I’m not just trying to be your friend, Alex. You know that. I’m just trying to figure this whole thing out.”

“You didn’t have to kiss me,” he told me sternly, “you don’t have to make yourself uncomfortable for my sake.  I’m not that much of a-”

Okay, probably an inopportune time to kiss him again but I couldn’t help it.  He was doing that ticked off Alex tone that made me want to shake him but also kiss the shit out of him and I damn well wasn’t about to shake him.  So I just tangled my fingers in the shoulder of his sweater and kissed him again. This time I let it linger a little longer. “Will you please shut up?”

“Fuck you, Foley.”  He had moved, I felt it.  He got closer to me, if that was possible, and had managed to put his bad hand on my side for support.  

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” I teased, suggestive smirk and everything.  He turned a really fucking amazing shade of red and dropped his hand from my side.  “Let me help you over to Zach’s car,” I offered and he nodded. When we got there, Jess was on her phone scrolling and barely acknowledged us until the passenger side door was open and Alex dropped in.  

“Took you long enough.  What happened?”

Is it fucking possible she didn’t see the multiple kisses that just occured? Or was she in a state of complete shock over her exes kissing that she was choosing to ignore it and process later?  Because Jessica Davis would say something. She’d say  _ everything _ she was thinking about that situation, I am fucking sure of it.  

“Monty’s a dick,” Alex responded, tucking his cane into the car while I stood like an absolute idiot beside the door.  How could she have missed it? And how was Alex not in holyshitdoesJessicaknow mode? Maybe he was as confident as I was in Jessica’s inability to not say something about things of that nature?  Or maybe he was just thankful to not have to deal with another fucking stressful situation for five minutes. “Same fucking high school bull shit,” he added, turning his head to look at me. There was still pink on his cheeks and it took every ounce of willpower I had for me to not reach out and touch them.  He must’ve known it too. He bit his bottom lip and just barely shook his head - a subtle ‘not right now,’ if I had ever seen one.

“Are you going back to school?”  I questioned mostly to Alex but definitely having to extend the question to Jessica too.  

“My dad will kill me if I skip the whole day,” Jessica responded but she was looking at Alex for his answer anyway.

“Are you?” He asked me in response and a little piece of me was really fucking excited to kill off the possibility of Alex falling back in love with Jessica Davis right then and there as he ignored her statement and focused on me.  Fin-a-fucking-ly. I’ve definitely done something right today and it wasn’t pounding Monty’s face in or somehow managing to kill Bryce Walker without getting myself thrown back into jail. I nodded and carefully chose my words, “Day will be almost over and I’m pretty sure I’ve got a test last period.”

“Meet you there,” he responded, settling into his seat finally.  I closed his door and waited for Jessica to pull them away from the curb and begin their drive back to school. If I’m being fully truthful, I practically ran to the Prius to get back to school at the same time in order to help Alex back to class.  Jealousy wasn’t something I ever really experienced before but I definitely did not want the visual of Alex’s arm tucked around Jessica’s as they headed towards sixth period in an attempt to not be late. There is plenty of space on my arm for Alex to hold and I would gladly be late to every single class if it meant I was the one who got to walk him through the crowded hallway.  Class? Who needed class when I had just a few extra seconds of time with Alex…

It’s strange, the way things happen at Liberty and no one seems to catch them.  Similar to the way Jessica didn’t open her eyes and catch Alex and I kissing which would have saved us from having the ‘we’re together’ talk.  But things like bullying, secret relationships, entire sports teams full of bull shit behavior and a coach that’s basically allowing it to happen right under his nose…    The same goes for the strategically folded piece of paper that was waiting for me in my locker after I had successfully walked Alex to class with Jessica. No one noticed how ridiculous it is for someone to put slipping a paper into someones locker?  The day of love notes in lockers was definitely over, if we’re being honest. There’s direct messages and instagram notifications to satisfy that fucking craving. And no one is stupid enough to have a crush on the ex junkie, completely wrapped up in the perfect boy with the cane, caught in the middle of a love triangle with his ex dude anyway.

Nope.   It definitely wasn’t a love note.   I grabbed my book and shut my locker, carefully unfolding the paper to read it while I walked - late, thanks to my extra seconds of Alex Standall time - to my sixth period class.  I was greeted with sharp red letters that made my stomach twist.

_ I saw you. _


	10. part ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You okay?
> 
>  
> 
> It took a lot longer for Alex to respond to my text message. I hadn’t given much thought to the fact that he could barely type on the thing and he was going to have to dodge getting caught by the French teacher from hell on top of it. But my phone buzzed in my pocket and I carefully slid it out and held it low so I could read it.
> 
>  
> 
> Are you trying to be one of *those* couples and walk me to every class?
> 
> \----------------------------------------------------------------

I didn’t see Alex until the end of the day.  I had tried to get to him after sixth period but he had left early and made it to his seventh period class before everyone else.  When I strolled by the door, because I wasn’t above sneaking an extra glance just to make sure he was there and okay, he met my eyes and frowned.  A mouthed ‘sorry,’ was extended but I shook my head and waved my cell phone before darting off to class. I sent him a quick text message.

 

_You okay?_

It took a lot longer for Alex to respond to my text message.  I hadn’t given much thought to the fact that he could barely type on the thing and he was going to have to dodge getting caught by the French teacher from hell on top of it.  But my phone buzzed in my pocket and I carefully slid it out and held it low so I could read it.

_Are you trying to be one of *those* couples and walk me to every class?_

The word couple did something funny to my stomach.  Really funny. It twisted in a way that felt eager and not at all terrifying like I expected it to.  I thought about those words and allowed myself to imagine the smallest of smiles on Alex’s face while he typed it.  That fucking dork.

“Earth to Justin,” Clay waved his hand in front of my face.  He was sitting next to me for our lab but had somehow managed to pull his stool so close beside mine that the entire class could sit at our table.  He really had a knack for the dramatics, even now. “Dude. We have to partner up and do this project. If you’re trying to get back on the basketball team we need at least a C.  And if you’re trying to not get murdered at home, you need at least a B.”

I probably should have answered Clay.  I probably shouldn’t have waited until he wasn’t eyeing me suspiciously to answer him back.  But everything else seemed to freeze when Alex was speaking about us as a couple. Dumb notes from my locker and somewhat annoying almost-brothers be damned.

_We could be one of those couples but you’re too stubborn to let me walk you._

“Are you high?”

“What?”  I shut my text book onto my phone, marking whatever fake page I was reading and giving Clay my fullest attention.  I shook my head, rolled my eyes and tried to muster up whatever typical Justin Foley attitude I could manage. My stomach was still doing somersaults and my heart felt like it was definitely about to break directly through my ribs.  At least it’d be a scientific miracle if I survived and we were in a science classroom.

“Are. You.  High.” I tilted my head back and then glanced around the classroom.  Everyone was partnered up and working with their burners on and ingredients in front of them.  I couldn’t have possibly missed that much while responding to a text message. “You’ve been on another planet for fifteen minutes.  We need to actually get this done before the end of class, you jackass.”

“So let’s get this done.” I paused, attempted to flash my get out of jail free card - my smile, and hoped Clay would fall for it.  Yeah fucking right. “What are we doing?”

“You are an actual mess,” he mumbled and quickly designated me the writer and him the doer.  Which was perfectly fine by me. I had more time to check my phone if I wasn’t the one mixing chemicals and potentially blowing up the second floor of Liberty.  “Are you texting Alex?”

I glanced around to see if anyone heard him and raised their eyes.  Not because I gave a fuck if anyone knew Alex and I were talking - at this point, worrying about Jessica finding out wasn’t my top priority - but because I needed to see if there was any sign of a reaction from the person who may have slipped that asshole note into my locker.  Nothing. No one reacted except Clay. “Are you guys a thing now?”

“I don’t know,” it was the truth but it was also to just shut him up for the time being.  I didn’t want to chance it. I didn’t want to give whoever left this note in my locker anymore reason to annoy me or Alex.  We had just gone through _so much_ and Alex was still struggling every single day - it didn’t seem fair to put this on top of him as well.  So I just quietly whispered a response I knew Clay would never object to. “We can talk about it at home, okay? Just…”  I waved my hand in front of the table and motioned for him to keep going.

“You’re so fucking weird,” he mumbled but eventually listened.

Paranoia had slowly begun to seep in by the end of class.  Alex hadn’t responded to my text message and I had spent the majority of my designated writer of the paper time watching every move everyone made in class.  No one even glanced in our direction. Which was both fine and completely unsettling all at once. When I got up to hand in our assignment, which we were scrambling to finish as the bell was ringing and that was entirely my fault - Clay reminded me six different times - no one watched me walk.  Whoever it was, they weren’t in this classroom.

My stomach turned with the idea of whoever it was being in Alex’s class with him, right now.  Sitting next to him with some hidden agenda to either torture the already tortured boy. My feet carried me in the direction of Alex’s last period classroom - I didn’t even realize I was practically running until I got to the door and held onto the frame as I peered in.  Alex wasn’t there.

I stepped into the classroom as if that was going to make a difference.  Every seat was empty. Students were filling in around me, groaning about their day being too long and not over yet - not even wondering why I was randomly camped out in the doorway of their classroom.

“Jus?”

My entire body relaxed the moment I heard his voice.  The click of his cane heading closer was the greatest sound I’ve ever heard.  I spun around and faced him, noticing but choosing to ignore the way his features bunched up with worry.  A crease between his eyebrow, narrowed eyes and his bad hand out in an attempt to reach for me. I took it between both of my hands and carefully guided us out the door and to the side of the hallway so everyone could get into the classroom around us.  I had to force myself to let go of his hand once he was leaning against a set of lockers. This was a lot to deal with in one day.

“What happened?”

“Nothing,” I told him quietly, shrugging up my shoulders and hoping the smile I flashed him was going to leave the subject there.  He responded with the face of Alex Standall I had grown to be so fond of. The _I’m not taking any of your shit, Foley_ face.   “I just wanted to see you.  Today’s been weird.”

“You’re being weird,” he noted but nodded like he understood what I was saying anyway.  “You’re going to make me late for class.”

"Skip,” I urged - my overwhelming desire to keep him away from whatever fucking person put that note in my locker was also slightly working to my advantage.  In a million years I never imagined finding myself torn between protecting Alex Standall with every ounce of me, and wondering if I could convince him to skip last period to make out behind the bleachers in stead.

Once again Alex shot me a look.  This time it was one I hadn’t ever seen before.  A sarcastic eye roll was mixed with a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips - he was desperately trying to fight it. I stepped closer to him, closing the bit of space between us a little more, desperate to make him smile more.  “You’re staring at my mouth.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“In the hallway?”  He laughed and nodded his head as his teacher walked past and into the classroom, acknowledging his presence and dooming me from getting him to escape.  My shoulders slumped forward with defeat. “It’s forty minutes and we have a test today I need to attempt to pass. What’s gotten into you?”

“Do you want a ride home?” I didn’t want to leave him there in that classroom with a potential note leaving asshole, but I knew if I wasn’t careful, this playful smirk of his would turn into an annoyed _stop doing what you think I want_ face in a second.   

“I have therapy,” he waited a moment, studying my face.  I tried my best to keep it neutral. “Seriously, Justin - are you okay?”

The warning bell rang. So did the one inside my head that told me to not get Alex worked up.  It was harder to bring him back down once he got started. I was going to be late to my last period class if I didn’t pry myself away from knowing Alex was safe and I wasn’t sure I cared.  An echo of the reminder Clay had said to me earlier, about my desire to get back on the basketball team, and my desire to not make the Jensen’s annoyed at my lack of dedication to school washed over me.  How did any teenager survive high school? There were just too many things to deal with every single day.

I smiled the best I could at Alex and motioned my head towards the hallway, “Text me the time it ends and when it’s over and I’ll come pick you up from it.”

“Justin, answer my question.”  I was already backing up, gearing up for a sprint to my last period class. “Justin!” His voice was a bit louder the further I got from him.  I had to actually turn away so I wasn’t looking at him or those entirely too kissable lips. I allowed myself one last glance in his direction, calling back a _get to class, Standall!_  Before I rounded a corner and walked in the door as the bell was ringing.

In a whirlwind my day had gone from wondering what it was going to be like for everyone to know that my heart had staked claim on Alex Standall, to Monty and Bryce being complete and total assholes, to kissing Alex on a sidewalk and not giving a fuck who saw us, to feeling the most protective I’ve felt in a long time.  I understood why Alex sometimes was exhausted from doing nothing more than living through Liberty hell. This was a fucking mess.

For now, Alex was safe inside a classroom and going to therapy after school which gave me some time to figure out what the hell I was going to do.  I was definitely going to regret my decision to ask Clay for help with this as soon as we got home. But I had no other choice.


	11. Part Eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It was fine. I told her you kissed me.”
> 
> “You did?”
> 
> \-------------------------------------------

Therapist’s offices smelled oddly like a cross between a hospital room and the weird hippie with the dreadlocks who used to bring peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in ziplock bags to the homeless shelter I stayed in for a while.  What the fuck was that? Patchoulli? Lavender? Some shit that made my nose scrunch up and my stomach turn at the reminder of the things I had to do just to stay alive. It’s pretty fucking weird having to sleep in a cot beside strangers and explain to a person who could have possibly been covered in scabies and hopped up on opiates why I was sixteen and homeless.   _ Shit happens. _   That was always all I could come up with.

And it was true.  Shit did happen. But there were also less shitty things that happened too.  Like the way Alex’s face lit up when he left the room he had his session in and was greeted with me instead of Officer Standall to pick him up.  I even wore a cardigan over my button up shirt. Suddenly impressing Alex any way I could was at the top of my must-do list. “Hey, how was it?”

“Still crazy,” he replied like that was the complete truth and I kind of wanted to smack him for it.  Crazy wasn’t what he was. He never was that. Hurt is what he was, and what he probably still is. It’s what he may always be.  But Crazy definitely wasn’t an option I was ever going to take for truth and I’m fairly certain the distaste on my face let that be loud and fucking clear.  “It was fine. I told her you kissed me.”   
  
“You did?”  Alex was talking about me in therapy? Was that something that was okay? Could she tell his parents? Would that prevent me from ever being on Alex duty again? More importantly was it bad that I kissed him and he had to talk to a therapist about it? I was a little out of practice - no one really wanted to kiss the smelly heroine addict, but fuck.  I didn’t think I was therapy worthy.   
  
“No,” Alex laughed and used his good hand to swat at my chest.  “It’s the same thing every week.” He motioned his head towards the door and I had to resist the urge to put my hands all over him to keep him steady while he walked.  That wasn’t going to help anything. And it was probably going to just piss him off. Even though the truth behind it wasn’t because I thought he needed my help - I just really wanted an excuse to touch him in public.  “She asks how I feel about being back at school, how I feel about my physical therapy, if I’m talking to my parents or whatever.” He looked back at the door he had come out from for just a moment, almost like he felt  _ bad _ that the therapist had to do this every single week.  Like talking to Alex was some kind of burden. That was all it took for me to put my hand on his lower back and help guide him through the door.    
  
“Okay…   And how do you feel about those things?”     
  
I did actually want to know.  In fact, I wanted to know bad.  I wanted to hear Alex tell me with his own words that he was feeling fine being back at school.  I wanted to hear him say that he thought his physical therapy was going well. I wanted to hear him say that his relationship with his parents was the best it’s ever been.  I wanted to hear Alex tell me in a million different ways that he was doing okay and that he wasn’t feeling like he needed an escape from his life anymore. I wanted to hear him say he was going to keep existing.

“I feel like I don’t want you to pretend to be interested in those things.  And I didn’t tell you what time my therapy session was over so you could give me an extra round of feelings talk.  I wanted to be normal with you.”

Everything about Alex Standall felt intense.  He was intense in the way he reacted to things, intense in the way he defended his friends, intense in the way he had a serious lack of appreciation for himself.  Everything about the way  _ I _ felt  _ about _ Alex Standall also felt intense.  I wanted him to see himself through my eyes.  To see his strength, his resilience, his ability to improve even when odds were stacked against him.  I wanted him to see his loyalty and his trustworthiness and his ability to be a fucking incredible friend.  I wanted him to see how goddamn perfect I thought he was - despite flaws, despite poor judgement calls, despite whatever the fuck else it was he was going to use as an excuse to shoot down his amazingness.  It made my heart race and my face feel hot and my hands get sweaty just thinking about all of the wonderful things that made up Alex Standall. That was a whole level of intense I didn’t even fucking understand at this point.  Maybe  _ I _ needed therapy.   
  
“I’m not pretending,” I said without being able to control how offended I sounded.  I wanted to. I wanted to control my tone and be level headed for him as much as possible because I was afraid things would set him off - but fuck, this one really pissed me off.  I would never  _ pretend  _ to care.  What’s the use in pretending? We’re all so fucked up to begin with, I’d just as easily write it off as another day as a Liberty student.  But no - I really fucking cared about those things in Alex’s life. “What’s normal?”    
  
It was a genuine question.  Because nothing felt normal anymore.  I had a folded piece of paper with red scratchy letters still burning a hole in my back left pocket and I was pretty sure that I was officially bisexual and completely head over heels for Alex Standall and not a single one of those things was  _ normal _ .  So really, what was normal? 

“I don’t know. I thought you’d complain about school, or some girl, or whatever.  We could go to Monet’s and you could pretend you’re way too cool for the fancy drinks and just drink black coffee.  Something.”   
  
I flinched at the mention of a girl.  I thought kissing Alex on the sidewalk had made it very clear that I was in this thing with him. I had even tried to use my words for the most part.  I had really thought I did everything right to make sure Alex Standall knew that I wasn’t interested in anyone else but him and apparently I was wrong.  Apparently Alex thought I was still out trying to hook up with girls and about to complain about it to him.   
  
“Fuck you, Standall.”  I didn’t realize the words came out of my mouth until I had seen his reaction.  He flinched. And I immediately felt bad. “I mean, shit. I’m out here kissing you and you still think I’m going to be complaining about girls?”  

I don’t know why I heard Zach Dempsey telling me that if I was going to show up for Alex, I really needed to  _ show up _ playing over and over in the back of my head at this exact moment but I did.  And I tried my best to take a deep breath and really hear what Alex was saying.  He brought up a girl, he brought up Monet’s, he brought up me being  _ too cool _ .  So as annoyed as I was, I had to try and piece that together and make sense of it.   
  
I helped him into the passenger seat of the Prius and walked around to the driver side.  When I got in, I didn’t give him the opportunity to respond at all. “How much more of the Monet’s menu do you have left to try?”   
  
“I can’t remember most of what I tried before…”  He looked over at me with confused eyebrows, “So I started over.  Why?”   
  
“Because we’re going to try it together,” I told him as if that was so completely obvious.  To me, it was. If Alex thought I was  _ too cool _ or whatever the fuck, I was going to make sure that whatever I was, I was it with him.  If he thought that some girl had the chance of having me feel like  _ this _ about them, I was going to show him that there was only enough room in my heart for him.  Also, I was definitely going to punch myself for getting so fucking cheesy and sappy and full of mush that I so obviously was turning into a goddamn Jensen.

 

I was learning to see things that triggered Alex.  He was doing okay by the end of the day in school and the only difference between now and then was his therapy session.  That made sense. He had to talk about feelings and improvements and whatever else the therapist had made him bring up and that was probably a lot.  He was always trying to be there for other people and it seemed like it was really difficult for Alex to be present in his own life a lot of the time.  Like he couldn’t see how much he mattered. He could only see how much other people mattered to him and focus on that. I assumed that discussing things drove those feelings home for him.  Which brought on his pretty foul mood.    
  
“Why are you doing all of this?”  He asked curiously, looking at me with those piercing blue eyes. There was genuine curiosity on his face when I looked over at him after we found a parking spot close to Monet’s.  He’d have to walk just a little. Maybe that was a good thing. “All of what?”   
  
“Babysitting me.  Spending your time with me like this,” he motioned between us with his good hand and I sighed.  Therapy was supposed to help him - not make him feel worse about himself. “I can’t give you anything in return.  I can’t do anything. And if our friends find out...”   
  
“Let them.” I maybe said that before thinking about it, but I’d go with it.  Fuck it. Let them find out. Because at this point, I had bigger things to worry about and they were figuring out how to help Alex see himself how I see him, and figuring out who the fuck was putting stupid fucking notes in my locker in reference to him.  “I don’t care who sees us together. I don’t care what they fucking think. I’m sick of everyone in this fucking town having some kind of control over the things we do, the things we think, the things we care about. So fuck it. I want to be with you. I want to go to Monet’s and sit at that too small fucking table and watch you get the weirdest fucking drinks.  I want to pick you up from therapy, or go play video games with you. I want to hold your fucking hand-”   
  
“You never hold my hand.” He stated, and I instantly grabbed his hand and laced our fingers together, just to prove a point.  I didn’t even want to point out that I have held his hand before - that wasn’t what he needed right now. “You’re going to regret this.”   
  
“I’m not,” I promised him and that was the fucking truth.  There wasn’t a single thing to regret about Alex Standall. At least not now.  I regret not seeing the signs before. I regret not coming back sooner to be here for him.  But this? I’d never regret this. “I don’t fucking know how to date a guy. I have no idea. And I’m not even fucking sure I’m going to be good at dating someone.  I royally fucked up my last relationship,” Clearly. Jessica Davis was a really great testimony to my fucked up dating skills, but whatever. I wasn’t throwing in the towel.  “But I’m fucking sure I’ve never felt like this about someone and if you don’t feel the same, that’s fine. But I’m pretty sure you do and I’m not about to let your pity party ruin something for us before it starts.”   
  
I watched him move.  He was struggling to do so.  Twisting a little, tugging at our hands where they were joined together and I wondered if I was a little bit too harsh with bringing up a pity party and he wanted to get out of the car.  But if that was the case, he wouldn’t be trying to twist towards me - he’d be moving away. And he wouldn’t be trying to reach for me with his other hand, too. I instinctively moved towards it just a little.  “Are you going to punch me?”

  
“No, asshole.  Come closer so I can kiss you.”    
  
That was exactly what I did.  I leaned over - even if it was weird and uncomfortable because there was a gear shift kind of digging into my arm awkwardly - and I met Alex in a kiss.  It wasn’t anything wild or anything too long, or anything even very deep. It was just a soft, gentle acknowledgement that this was in fact real despite whatever bullshit Alex had been playing in his mind and it was going to be weird but we could handle it. I even kissed his cheek afterwards.  That turned Alex’s cheeks a fan-fucking-tastic shade of red and he pushed my hand away. “You’re so fucking cheesy.”    
  
“And you clearly like it.” 


End file.
